


I Would Move Mountains

by twitchtipthegnawer



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-09-26 11:30:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9894521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitchtipthegnawer/pseuds/twitchtipthegnawer
Summary: The city of Amsterdam is in a golden age, a center of trade and beauty and art. It’s the only world Zenyatta’s ever known, a world full of spices and brightly painted toys, a world with servants and giant merchant ships. It’s the only world his parents everwantedhim to know.But he knows there’s more out there. So much more - dragons and mermaids and phoenixes, things his parents don’t dare speak of. And injustices, too, the kind of suffering Zenyatta’s never had to face. If he can do good, learn about the world and use that knowledge to help others, then nothing will stop him from leaving.





	1. Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody! So… this is the first fic of it’s kind I’ve attempted to write, but despite that I’m fairly confident in this first chapter, and I hope you’ll all give my inexperienced butt a chance ;u; The default dialog can be assumed to be Dutch, but there’s some Japanese in here that’s italicized for ease of differentiation.
> 
> This is a fantasy AU set in a 1650’s analogue… ish. There will be magic and dragons and all kinds of exciting things. I’m trying to explain all of the necessary cultural stuff while not bogging down the story with exposition that the characters already fully understand, but if you have any questions regarding the Dutch or Japanese terms that get brought up, feel free to ask!

Zenyatta wasn’t looking forward to the day in the slightest. It was his birthday, true, and he would be turning eighteen, which was no small deal. But when he opened his eyes, the only thing he could think was:  _ eighteen, and still my parents treat me like a child. _

He almost,  _ almost  _ didn’t want to bother asking once again for something he knew he’d be denied. Of course, he would ask anyway, but the knowledge of the result was dragging him down.

Dragging himself out of bed, Zenyatta went to the washstand in the corner of his room and splashed his face with water. He took a deep breath, inspecting his face in the mirror. His black hair was starting to get long; he’d have to ask one of the servants to cut it soon.

By and large, however, he was presentable enough. Obviously foreign, of course, but he rather liked his dark skin and eyes. Turning away, Zenyatta dressed himself quickly in a pair of dark breeches and a doublet.

The dining room, when he walked into it, was empty but for his father. His brown cheeks were ruddy, though Zenyatta didn’t know if it was the result of early drinking or simple merriment.

“There he is!” Aaditey Devkota said, entirely too loudly. “The birthday boy!”

“Father…” Zenyatta couldn’t help the embarrassment that made his voice strained, but he did obediently walk to his father and accept an awkward hug.

Over his father’s shoulder, he caught the gaze of one of their maids. Lotte was blonde, and very pretty, and currently rolling her eyes. It was disrespectful, but Zenyatta privately agreed. His father could be rather undignified.

When he released Zenyatta, Father was grinning ear-to-ear. “Now, I know you’re very eager to put in your requests,” he said. “But you simply  _ must  _ try this breakfast. Lotte’s outdone herself today.”

Said maid blushed bright crimson at that praise. Zenyatta sat beside his father at the table, at a place already set for him. The plate had slices of ontbijtkoek, breakfast cake, already buttered for him. He had no doubt that it would be delicious - he sometimes preferred Lotte’s cooking to the chef’s, in fact.

As he bit into the first slice (and it was warm and sweet and perfect, Father was right) Mother walked into the room. She was dressed in a nightgown, all white gauze and frills that made the long tumble of her hair seem even darker. Zenyatta smiled at her, and she smirked back.

And oh, no, that was  _ not _ a good sign. He loved his mother, of course, but that particular expression never boded well. He swallowed around the suddenly-heavy lump of cake in his throat, ducking his head to avoid her gaze.

“Are you looking forward to the day, dear?” Mother asked, sitting across from him.

“Of course,” Zenyatta said. “It is off to a rather pleasant start.”

“You can say that again!” Father laughed, then patted his belly. Zenyatta wondered how long Father had spent eating before Zenyatta’d come down the stairs.

“It will be even more pleasant when your present arrives,” Mother said in her lilting, soft voice.

Once again, Zenyatta felt his stomach sink. If they had already bought his present, that meant they were highly unlikely to give him the voyage he wanted.

“Just wait until you see it,” Father was saying. “It’s just the thing you never knew you wanted.”

Inclining his head slightly, Zenyatta replied, “I’m sure I will love it, Father.”

Breakfast ended without further incident, thankfully. Mother made small talk about the affairs of Father’s business, which Zenyatta mostly tuned out. He already knew that the VOC was doing well; it had been doing well since before he was born, and he was sure it would be doing well long after he was gone.

Aaditey was only one of many lawyers in the organization, and they could afford a rather lavish house in Amsterdam. Not to mention the maids, and the cook, and the tickets that his family  _ still  _ refused him. He didn’t care if Nepal didn’t have the quality universities, or if it was currently a hotbed of Hybrid activity. He wanted to go.

At some point while they’d been eating, Lotte had left the room. Zenyatta didn’t even notice until she ran back in, her breath huffing loudly and her blonde hair falling out of its bun. “Mrs. Devkota,” she panted, a smile breaking out over her face. “It’s arrived.”

“Lovely,” Mother replied. She had the look again, and beckoned at Zenyatta as she stood. “Come along, dear. And don’t look so sour, you might just find yourself pleasantly surprised.”

“Yes Mother.” Zenyatta followed her out of the room and down the short corridor to the voorhuis. He tried to think positive, because she was right, it really wouldn’t do to be pessimistic.

They walked into the reception room together, and all thought of pessimism and optimism flew from his mind. The room faded out, bright paintings and rug alike blurring as Zenyatta locked eyes on the cage and stared. He didn’t even notice the tired, filthy sailor in the room, barely registered Mother’s voice.

Inside the cage was a  _ Hybrid _ . And not just any Hybrid, but a  _ dragon  _ hybrid. Zenyatta had seen horses, and cattle, and even a selkie once, but never a dragon. His skin was generally paler than Zenyatta’s, but it was marred by patches of green scales that glinted gold where they caught the light. His eyes were even brighter gold, slit-pupiled and blazingly furious.

“Your father and I cannot allow you to go to Nepal unprotected,” Mother said lightly. “So we’ve procured you some protection.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Zenyatta breathed. His mind crackled with a thousand questions, all clamoring to spill from his mouth. It was so much that Zenyatta said nothing, and simply ended up staring at the Hybrid. He stared back, until Zenyatta realized how rude he was being and flushed, looking away.

He tuned back into the conversation just as the sailor said, “If you’re sure, ma’am.” Then he was stepping forward, unlocking the cage and allowing the Hybrid to step into the room.

With his hands and feet shackled in heavy chains, he couldn’t walk very easily. Luckily the sailor was already unlocking them as well, gathering them up and placing them back inside the iron enclosure. The Hybrid rolled his wrists, flexed his taloned hands, and glared at Zenyatta again.

“Hello,” Zenyatta said, still sounding a bit like a wondering idiot. “I’m Zenyatta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Curling his upper lip, the Hybrid turned away. He watched the sailor and Mother exchange coins and quiet words, but didn’t speak aloud at all. Mother was also silent until the sailor left, carting his cage behind him. Then she looked between the two remaining men in the room, raising one eyebrow delicately.

“His name is Genji Shimada. And I suggest you have him help you pack, because your ship leaves tomorrow.”

“Oh!” Zenyatta narrowly stopped himself from running to her and smothering her in a hug; as it was, his embrace was still fiercely grateful. “Thank you Mother, thank you  _ so  _ much.”

“Anything for you, my darling,” she said. Zenyatta couldn’t believe his luck. He didn’t care that he’d made a fool of himself in front of this new servant, Genji. He didn’t care that he’d likely be making a fool of himself for the next nine months while they crossed the ocean. He was finally, finally getting his wish.

Releasing his mother, Zenyatta spun on his heel and grinned at Genji. He only got a surprised blink for it, but he didn’t mind. He was certain Genji would warm up to him soon. “Come with me please,” Zenyatta said. “I’ll show you to my room.”

Genji followed him, though he didn’t appear too happy about it. Zenyatta kept sneaking looks at him over his shoulder as they went. His clothing was ill-fitting, likely from before his transformation had begun. He wanted to know why Genji was here, why he’d submitted himself to the transformation, if there were any changes besides the obvious.

“How old are you?” Was the one question he managed to voice.

“Thirty-three,” Genji said. His voice was delightfully smooth, not the growl Zenyatta had expected at all.

As Zenyatta opened the door to his room and stepped inside, he snuck another look. “But you seem so young!”

The next moment he was wincing, and Genji was giving him a look that seemed edged in blades. Clearing his throat, Zenyatta tried to start again. “The trunk at the foot of my bed is empty,” he explained. “I was hoping something like this would happen, after all. Here, I’ll take out the things I need to carry with me, and you can pack them?”

There was no response again, and Zenyatta frowned before something occurred to him.  _ “Are you more comfortable with Japanese?” _ He asked, in Japanese.

If he hadn’t been feeling so relieved, Zenyatta would’ve laughed at the expression on Genji’s face. Those dignified, reptilian eyes looked fit to pop right out of his skull.  _ Some terrifying dragon you are, _ Zenyatta thought, and then he really  _ was  _ giggling helplessly.

_ “If you speak Japanese,” _ Genji said. _ “Then maybe you can tell me why the fuck everyone’s been making plans without me.” _

Zenyatta had never heard someone be so rude in Japanese before - his tutors had taught him the utmost keigo. It was so distracting that it took him a beat too long to realize what Genji had said, but when the words sank in Zenyatta froze.

_ “I… I imagine they did tell you, and you didn’t understand,” _ he said. He forced himself to keep smiling, though it was more subdued now.  _ “My mother bought you for the sake of escorting me to Nepal. I’ve always wanted to go, you see, but my parents haven’t allowed me.” _

_ “Nepal?” _ His phrasing said ‘question,’ but his tone was as flat as it could go.

Try as he might, Zenyatta couldn’t stop his eyes from sliding to the floor. He couldn’t give up this opportunity, but was he going to be trampling over Genji’s feelings in the process?

_ “In that case,” _ Genji said coldly.  _ “Could I use a pen and paper? I need to send a letter.” _

_ “Yes, of course,”  _ Zenyatta said. He hoped it would be enough to allow Genji to relax.

Seeing the Hybrid sitting in his desk chair, writing with his quill, was fairly distracting. Genji was more lean muscle than bulk, but he was still much taller and broader than Zenyatta. This was no great feat, as Zenyatta had been thin and small all his life, but it made the furniture look comically frail.

While Genji penned of the letter, Zenyatta began packing his own things. Halfway through, however, his curiosity got the best of him.  _ “Who are you writing to?” _ He asked, peeking at Genji from the corner of his eye.

His slightly-pissed facial expression didn’t change in the slightest. _ “Angela Ziegler,”  _ he replied.  _ “She’s a witch.” _

Eyes as wide as dinner plates, Zenyatta turned to face Genji fully. _ “Is she the one who performed the ceremony? To transform you?” _

_ “Obviously,” _ Genji rolled his eyes.  _ “Why else would I be writing her.” _

_ “You could be friends with other witches,” _ Zenyatta pointed out.

For some reason, Genji didn’t deign to give that a response. Zenyatta huffed and continued his work, resisting the temptation to try to read over Genji’s shoulder.

They finished around the same time, which left them sitting in awkward silence. Zenyatta decided that Genji  _ could  _ be thirteen years older than him, because he managed to look as jaded and superior as many of Father’s friends were. He also had strands of grey in his black hair, not enough to form solid streaks, but scattered like stars in the night.

Actually, he was quite handsome. Zenyatta quickly stood, trying to shake the thought off physically.  _ “If you don’t have any better fitting clothes, we’ll need to visit a tailor. Oh! You’ll need a coat as well, a proper one.” _

Pursing his lips, Genji nodded. Zenyatta snatched up his purse, notified Mother about where he was going, and then hurried off. He tried not to let Genji’s silence get to him, as he seemed to be a quiet man in general. When he turned his head and saw Genji muttering under his breath as they walked down the street, though…

_ “Are you really that displeased with me?” _ Zenyatta said. He made his voice as gentle as he could, since he didn’t fully understand the situation yet. _ “I don’t know what I’ve done to offend you, but you seem remarkably irritated about it.” _

A look of pure surprise crossed Genji’s face, and Zenyatta had to stifle a smile. It wouldn’t do to make Genji think he was being mocked.  _ “No,” _ he replied when he’d gathered himself.  _ “It isn’t that. I haven’t been a Hybrid for very long, is all. I’m not accustomed to taking orders.” _

_ “You haven’t?”  _ Zenyatta stopped walking for a moment, bringing his hand up to his cheek. _ “But you’re so, I mean, I’m not sure I understand.” _

Once again, Genji raised his eyebrow as if Zenyatta was an idiot. _ “Angela is very good at her job,”  _ he answered simply.

_ Good  _ couldn’t begin to explain things, though. For Genji to look the way he did (eyes entirely reptilian, green scales covering a little less than half his visible skin) he’d need at least a year. Surely that was enough time to get used to his new position in life?

From the look on Genji’s face, it wasn’t. Zenyatta wanted to ask why, or how long it  _ had  _ been, or who Angela was, but his heart quieted his mind for once. Genji was uncomfortable and angry, yes, and Zenyatta might not be the main cause, but maybe he could help. If Genji didn’t want to feel like someone half-human, then Zenyatta would be sure to treat him, well, as normal as he could.

In the interest of cheering Genji, Zenyatta took him to a tailor he was personal friends with. De Vries was loud and boisterous like Father, but younger and more subtle. Mother had often joked that Father wasted all of his talents in the court and left his senses behind everywhere else. De Vries was, conversely, more valued for his sense of humor than his sewing.

Of course, he was still rather skilled, and as soon as Zenyatta walked in he was ushering them to a fitting room. “And who is this, Zen?” He asked, even as he stripped down Genji. “Wait a second, did your parents finally agree?”

“Yes,” Zenyatta said, smiling. The next moment De Vries was catching him up in a hug, spinning him in a circle easily.

“Wonderful! Are you the bodyguard, then?” He turned back to Genji, giving him a quick up-and-down. “Certainly built for it, aren’t you.”

De Vries whistled, prompting a blush from Zenyatta. But Genji simply looked bemused. Zenyatta had to wonder how much he could understand - just because he wasn’t fluent didn’t mean he couldn’t piece together meaning.

“Not too tall though,” De Vries continued. “Lucky thing, because you’d have to wait for me to get new fabric otherwise.”

“It won’t take too long though, will it?” Zenyatta chewed the tip of his index nail until he noticed what he was doing and abruptly dropped his hand.

“Doesn’t look like it,” De Vries replied, spanning a tape measure across Genji’s shoulderblades. “Actually, I recently had a remarkable stroke of bad luck and someone left me with brand new clothes and no payment. Perhaps it’ll be your good luck, hm?”

“Perhaps,” Zenyatta agreed.

Idly, he noticed that Genji’s toes had talons, the way his fingers did. Then he stared very hard at the wall and tried not to notice anything else about him.

Nine months with Genji at his side. It seemed impossible, still, like Zenyatta wasn’t going to believe it until he was actually on the boat. He could get Genji to warm up soon enough, he knew, and then it would be a grand adventure. More than that it would be a lifelong dream, the chance to see the place his parents had been born.

And then there was his secret wish, the one he knew Mother and Father would balk if they knew about. This far away he heard only rumors, but if he could track down the truth then he wouldn’t have to worry about Genji warming up to him slowly. In fact, his having a Hybrid bodyguard was a stroke of genius Zenyatta hadn’t dared hope for.

Fluttering about and gathering bundles of clothing into his arms, De Vries said, “They’ll love him on the ship, you know. Always so worried about fires with all that canvas about. Having a dragon Hybrid is useful, if they can swallow fire.”

Genji was looking between them with something like distrust, which was edging away from prickly and into ridiculous. Zenyatta would never hurt him.  _ “He’s saying that, if you can swallow fire, the captain will be really glad to have you on the ship.” _

_ “You’ll be happy to know that I can,” _ Genji said tersely. De Vries looked curious at the sound of Japanese, and then devious.

“Zen, what do you think of dressing him in gold? He’ll look even more  _ delicious  _ in flattering colors.”

A strangled noise clawed its way out of Zenyatta’s chest, and he only barely managed to cover it with a cough. “Whatever you have is fine.”

“Are you sure? I can have the bare minimum ready by tomorrow, his measurements really are quite similar to my former client’s, but the clothes are a bit… drab.”

“Fine! That’s fine.” Goodness, he had to sit down.

De Vries gave Zenyatta a knowing look, but still finished up rather quickly. Genji was redressing himself before the tailor could move to help him back into his clothing, and then he was hurrying out of the shop. “Goodbye to you too!” De Vries shouted after him, chuckling.

“Oh, how much for the clothing?” Zenyatta asked quickly. “We’re leaving tomorrow, you see.”

“Tomorrow? Zen, don’t worry about it.” De Vries caught Zenyatta in another hug, then winked. “I’ll get your parents to cover it. You enjoy your time with your new  _ friend.” _

“It isn’t like that,” he protested mildly. But De Vries simply waved him off, and then he was stuck scurrying after Genji who, thankfully, had waited for him just outside the shop.

Once more they began walking, this time retracing their steps to Zenyatta’s house. _ “You keep strange friends,” _ Genji said eventually.

_ “And what would you consider a normal friend?” _

_ “Pretty girls.” _

Freezing, Zenyatta stared at Genji’s back as he continued to walk. Was he serious? But no, he was pausing, half-turning with a smirk on his face.

_ “You  _ can _ tell jokes!” _ Zenyatta grinned widely and caught up to him. _ “I was beginning to wonder.” _

Genji simply shrugged, and they continued on their way. That didn’t bother Zenyatta in the slightest; he was already feeling more hopeful about their coming voyage anyway. He had to wonder where Mother had found out about Genji, and what had finally changed her mind, but he was okay with letting her keep her secrets for now.

Already, he was imagining what it would be like. The salt in the air, people from countries he’d only ever read about, and Genji making more wry jokes. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but it still seemed so much like a dream that he was reminding himself over and over again. He was getting on a ship tomorrow. In nine months, he’d be in India. He’d be that much closer to his goal.

He wondered what Genji’s reaction to the monastery would be. If he wasn’t used to being a Hybrid, maybe he didn’t know about it yet. The first time he saw it, would he be awed? Would his sour mood fall away to something bright and happy? Zenyatta hoped so, even if it was unlikely.


	2. Ahuizotl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, between getting my wisdom teeth taken out and being unexpectedly busy, this chapter ended up taking longer than expected. _And_ it’s shorter than I wanted it to be. I feel like I needed to give all my readers _something_ to tide them over between now and me managing a proper update, though.

It turned out that the clothing  _ was  _ rather drab. Genji grimaced at his appearance in the mirror, but Zenyatta thought the greys and browns suited him. His skin was already a riot of bright colors. Any more would’ve felt like overkill.

_ “I would never have worn something like this in Japan,” _ Genji said. He managed to sound  _ offended _ at the free clothes.

Smoothing out the creases in Genji’s shirt, Zenyatta replied,  _ “It’s not too bad. The color brings out your eyes.” _

_ “Brings out my eyes?” _ Genji quirked an eyebrow at Zenyatta.  _ “Now if only I could hear that from your cute maid.” _

_ “You leave Lotte alone. She has a very sensitive heart.” _

_ “Wonder if she’s sensitive anywhere else?” _

_ “Genji!” _

_ “Alright, alright.” _ Genji looked away from the mirror to smile crookedly at Zenyatta. It wasn’t quite natural, but even a forced smile made Zenyatta go a bit breathless. _ “Put your coat on, we’re leaving soon.” _

Zenyatta bit his tongue, reminded himself that Genji didn’t appreciate teasing reminders of who was a servant, and did as he was told. They were leaving shortly anyway, and would only have time for a light snack before they’d have to head down to the docks.

His mother had booked passage for him on Lotte’s brother’s ship, which helped sooth whatever small amount of nerves Zenyatta would’ve felt otherwise. He knew Reuben, trusted him and got along with him. He would be prepared for how excited Zenyatta was to be on this trip, and he could help curb Genji’s surlier moods.

As such, he was practically bouncing with eagerness. He shrugged on his coat, grabbed his carpet bag, and then darted past Genji down the stairs without a backward glance.

Mother was already in the dining room, eating with better manners than Father could manage even with an audience. Zenyatta gave her a fond kiss on the cheek, then grabbed an apple from the table.

She was watching him carefully, but smiled a bit when she saw Genji come in after him. “Don’t forget to write, my dear. Your father and I will worry terribly.”

“Every stop we make, I’ll be sure to send a letter off,” said Zenyatta. “There’s a University in the Italian port we’re stopping at, did you know? Perhaps I can find a witch to expedite it.”

“I did know. Zenyatta, did you forget who you were talking to?”

A rather undignified giggle spilled out before Zenyatta could stop it. She was right, though; his mother would have been sure to check and double-check every available map before sending him out.

Genji reached around Zenyatta to grab a second apple. He bit into the crisp fruit with a rather satisfying crunch, and Zenyatta pointedly did  _ not  _ look at his bobbing Adam’s apple as he swallowed.  _ “Our trunks are already in the front of the house, right?” _

_ “Right,” _ Zenyatta confirmed. _ “Are you sure you’ll be fine carrying one by yourself?” _

_ “These aren’t just for show, you know,” _ Genji replied, flexing one of his arms.

_ “Of course they aren’t.” _ Switching languages, Zenyatta turned back to his mother. Unlike his father, who made it a point to learn as many as possible, she could only speak Dutch and Nepali. “We’re off then, Mother. I’m afraid we won’t have time to stop by Father’s office, so you’ll have to pass on our goodbyes to him.”

Waving her hand vaguely, Mother said, “No worries darling, we knew this day was coming. I do hope you’ll visit us again before too long, though.”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” said Zenyatta. Then he had to hurry after Genji, who had apparently gotten impatient with waiting for him and headed to the front of the house on his own.  _ At least he won’t be able to walk away so easily for the next few months, _ Zenyatta thought.

They piled out of the house and into the carriage in a flurry of luggage and awkward limbs. Genji was more than strong enough to carry a trunk, this was true - but he was also, apparently, not used to having to dodge around other servants while doing so. He actually looked offended when  _ he  _ bumped into someone else, which contributed to the impression Zenyatta had that, prior to being a Hybrid, Genji had been rather privileged.

The carriage ride itself was uncomfortable. Zenyatta couldn’t sit still, bouncing in place and peeking out the windows every few minutes until Genji snapped at him to calm down. Even then, he only managed about five minutes before his leg began bouncing.

After one too many sharp looks from Genji, Zenyatta pointed out,  _ “Haven’t you ever been excited for something? I know you like to put on a dour face, but even you were a child once.” _

_ “At your age, the only thing I was this excited for involved a nice, soft bed. I doubt any on the ship will be that comfortable.” _

_ “Must everything be innuendo with you?” _

_ “I could stop talking to you entirely if you’d rather.” _

Sighing heavily, Zenyatta shook his head. Sometimes he wondered about Genji’s former life, and why it’d made him into someone who was comfortable joking about sex and nothing else.

But he knew better than to ask at random. Many things could cause people to become Hybrids. Injuries, debt, even kidnapping. None of them were good.

So Zenyatta kept his peace and reminded himself that Genji owed him no explanations. He hoped, though, that one day Genji would explain to him anyway. Of his own free will, just because he wanted Zenyatta to know.

That day, if it would ever come, was still a long way off. So they sat in silence for the rest of the trip until they arrived at the docks.

Zenyatta firmly believed that it was impossible to be gloomy at the Amsterdam dock. Ships were always coming and going, bearing sails that seemed impossibly huge and flags that shone jewel-bright. The air was thick with the scents of exotic spices, and the late spring breeze kept everyone pleasantly cool as they worked.

A friendly shout drew his attention toward a huge, burly man. Reuben was making his way across the boardwalk at his usual, leisurely pace. His sandy hair was windblown, and his skin was tanned even darker than Zenyatta had seen it last, but he’d recognize him anywhere.

“Why, they told me I’d be bringing a noblewoman along, but they didn’t tell me she’d be a beauty,” he drawled. Zenyatta giggled, stepping into an awkward curtsey.

“And they didn’t tell me the captain would be such a handsome devil,” he purred in return.

Bemusement plain on his face, Genji shook his head. Zenyatta could’ve explained that it was an old joke between them, but then, where was the fun in that?

Reuben pressed a kiss to the back of Zenyatta’s hand, then drew him closer to hook their arms together. “Before we’re off, I must know if the rumors were true,” he said. “Did my lady friend’s parents truly hide the voyage plans from her?”

“Alas, it  _ is  _ true,” Zenyatta lamented. “Had I known a moment sooner, I would have run to your arms when your ship first reached land.”

“Thought so.” Reuben dropped the joke and Zenyatta’s arm both, turning to face Genji. “And you must be the new recruit! Tell me, do you have any seafaring experience?”

“Some,” Genji replied, to Zenyatta’s surprise. “You will not even need to teach me the words in Dutch.”

“Better and better! And a little birdy tells me you can eat fire?”

Crooked grin cracking his lips, Genji said, “I can.”

\---------------

Of all the things Zenyatta had expected from this trip,  _ boredom  _ was not on the list.

But the fact remained that he was bored. He had explored as much of the ship as he reasonably could without getting in anyone’s way, and had settled into his new quarters, and found that he had  _ nothing _ else to do. Genji had dived into the preparations for setting off with surprising enthusiasm, and Reuben was of course too busy to keep him company.

Frowning, Zenyatta considered his options. He couldn’t go badger one of the more minor crew members for information on how the ship worked - that would be remarkably rude. He shouldn’t waste good paper and ink writing a letter to Mother when he’d just seen her.

He could, he supposed, take out the books he’d brought along, but that seemed a bit pathetic to him. He was going to be on this ship for a long while; he didn’t want to exhaust his avenues for entertainment too early. Swallowing down a sigh, Zenyatta tried to find his former excitement.

Before he could make much headway (beyond, “When Genji gets down here, I should teach him chess”), a knock came on his door. Zenyatta started, then stood to get it, wondering if Genji was already done helping with… whatever he’d been doing.

When he opened the door, however, he found himself face-to-face with an unfamiliar woman. And an unfamiliar set of  _ teeth _ .

Sharp teeth weren’t exactly uncommon amongst Hybrids. Zenyatta had seen his fair share of them, and liked to think that he was accepting of the various inhuman traits they had. But he’d never actually seen teeth quite like  _ this  _ before, more needle than bone, and bared in a wide, amused grin.

“What’s the matter?” Asked the woman in heavily accented Dutch. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Uh,” Zenyatta replied eloquently.

She laughed a big, bright belly laugh, then stuck her hand out. “My name is Sombra. And you are Zenyatta, yes?”

“Yes,” Zenyatta shook her hand, moving on autopilot. He blinked hard, hoping that it would clear away the last cobwebs of surprise. “It’s nice to meet you, ah, Sombra.”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Sure. Now then, I have been humbly requested to entertain you, seeing as how you are apparently the only other person on this boat not currently losing their shit.”

The profanity surprised a snort out of Zenyatta, and then he was shaking his head fondly and stepping aside. “Your company is certainly welcome. I’ve been bored out of my mind.”

“Me too,” said Sombra conspiratorially. She walked in, planting herself firmly on Zenyatta’s desk chair. He sat on Genji’s bunk in turn, and eyed the way her hair stood up in purple spikes as subtly as he could. “You have questions,” she said, revealing that Zenyatta hadn’t been nearly as subtle as he’d hoped. “You’re welcome to ask them, you know. I do love talking about myself.”

“What  _ are  _ you?” Zenyatta blurted it out and then promptly felt his cheeks heat in a blush, but Sombra seemed satisfied with the question.

“Ahuizotl. Like it?” Her tail curled up over her shoulder, a hand that looked more like it belonged on a bird’s foot than a human opening and closing. “I made it myself.”

“Made…” Zenyatta’s brows scrunched in thought. “Do you mean to say that you performed the ceremony on your own?”

“Got it in one,” she said with a wink.

“That’s _ impossible,”  _ protested Zenyatta. He didn’t want to believe that she was lying to him, but the mischievous light in her eyes made him doubtful.

At the same time, he almost  _ wanted  _ it to be true. It was so intriguing, and even though he hadn’t known her long, he had the impression that she was clever enough to pull off the impossible.

As if to tease him, she continued, “Not impossible if you’re clever enough. Draw out the right circles on the ground, make the sacrifice quickly enough, and you might be surprised at the results.”

Zenyatta eyed her taloned hand where it sat at the end of her lashing tail. “An ahuizotl doesn’t look like an easy beast to kill  _ quickly.” _

“Never said it was easy, just that it was possible.” She shrugged, but there was nothing casual about it.

While he was still thinking through the implications of a Hybrid being their own witch, Sombra stood and grabbed his hand. “Alright, if you’re not going to ask anything else, then how about we have some fun? I highly doubt you’ve seen all this ship has to offer.”

“I’ve already looked around as much as I could,” Zenyatta argued even while he stood and allowed her to pull him from the room. “But it’s hard to avoid getting in anyone’s way while they’re all so busy.”

“This is why I don’t usually get along with people who think inside the box. You need to be more  _ creative!” _

Bewildered, Zenyatta trailed behind Sombra. He didn’t understand what she’d meant until they were back above deck and she had gathered an armful of ropes. And then he was pulling away, muttering furiously to keep any nearby deckhands from hearing them. “Oh no, no way.”

“ _ Please _ , you don’t even know what I’m going to do yet!”

“I already said that I didn’t want to cause any trouble. And you clearly don’t know Reuben well, if you’re planning on pranking him.”

“Who said anything about pranking  _ Reuben? _ ” Winking, Sombra tilted her head to the side.

Looking over her shoulder showed Zenyatta just about the last person he’d expected to see. Against his will, he felt a giggle bubbling up.

“Now you’re getting it!” She said, delighted. “Lead him over here, will you? I’ll need maybe two minutes to set up; that should be more than enough time.”

“Two minutes?” But she was already walking away, and Zenyatta could feel the curiosity pulling at him like a physical force. Sombra was the most interesting thing that could have happened to him, and he owed her  _ at least _ two minutes for the entertainment she’d guaranteed.

While he was still trying to figure out how to unobtrusively get Genji’s attention, a tap came on his shoulder. Zenyatta jumped, tried not to look guilty, and tilted his head up - only to see Genji, slightly puzzled and irritated.  _ “I thought you were going to stay in our stateroom until I was free.” _

A surreptitious look around revealed that Sombra wasn’t anywhere to be found. Zenyatta relaxed a bit, then took a step backwards.  _ “That was the plan, but there isn’t anything to do down there. I thought it wouldn’t do any harm to come up for some fresh air.” _

_ “...Fine. As long as you stay away from the edge,” _ growled Genji.

_ “Are you worried about me?” _ Genji’s frown deepened, which was all the answer Zenyatta needed.

Before he could properly tease Genji about that, a whoop sounded above them. Zenyatta fairly strained his neck snapping it back to see what was going on -

Just in time to watch Genji get pulled into the air by his ankle.

Sombra started laughing while Zenyatta and Genji were too busy staring in surprise to understand what had happened. “You should see your faces!” She crowed, clinging to the rope with both hands.

“What’s going on over here?” Reuben asked, sounding very no-nonsense.

His friendship with Reuben was important to Zenyatta,  _ really, _ but the baffled outrage slowly dawning over Genji’s face was too funny to resist. He ended up laughing along with Sombra, while Reuben looked on in something both stern and dismayed.

“Should’ve known letting you on board was a bad idea,” he mumbled at Sombra. “Put him down.”

“Spoilsport,” she said easily. Then she dropped the rope, leaving Genji to barely shield his head in time to prevent it being smashed against the deck.

He came up growling, his hands balled into fists at his sides and slit-pupils blown wide.  _ “You heinous bitch,” _ he spat. _ “You don’t know what I could do to you.” _

The violence in his tone left Zenyatta blinking for the third time in as many minutes. It was why he didn’t even have time to be relieved that the threat had been in Japanese before Sombra was replying,  _ “I’m a Hybrid too, honey. And I think I know a lot more about dragons than you know about me.” _

Tension was so thick in the air that the remnants of laughter died silently in Zenyatta’s chest. He looked back and forth between his bodyguard and his new friend, at a loss.

Luckily, he could always count on Reuben to keep control of an unfortunate situation. “Cut it out, Sombra. If you two shred the sails having a meaningless fight the cost is coming out of your pocket.”

“Unfair!” She protested. “Shouldn’t he pay half?”

“His wallet is Zenyatta’s wallet,” Reuben said firmly. “And I doubt this was Zenyatta’s idea.”

Sheepishly, Zenyatta ducked his head. It might not have been his idea, but he was starting to feel a bit responsible, and more than a bit guilty. The fact that Genji was still breathing hard didn’t help.

_ “I am going to get back to work,” _ Genji announced.  _ “And I would prefer not to be interrupted again.” _ His words were coldly courteous, but his tone was barely-restrained anger.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sombra waved him off, then headed back down below decks. At a loss, Zenyatta trailed after her. He wanted to sooth Genji, but he had a feeling his presence would only inflame the indignity.

“Well, that was a blast,” she said, once they were away from most of the crew members. “What do you say we do it again?”

Mouth falling open, Zenyatta stared at her. “Um. I say we don’t. I really don’t think baiting Genji was a good idea.”

“Doesn’t need to be a good idea as long as it’s a  _ fun  _ one.”

Shaking his head, Zenyatta said as firmly as he could. “I would prefer it to be both.”

There was a beat of awkward silence between them as Sombra gave him an assessing look. He wasn’t going to back down on this, though. He’d barely built up any trust between himself and Genji, and he should’ve known that pranking him ran the risk of setting him back.

“You said you liked talking about yourself,” Zenyatta said carefully. “I’ve thought of more questions, if you’re still inclined to answer.”

“...Ask away. But wait until we’re back in your little room. Don’t want someone else listening in,” she said with a wink.

Unsure how to handle the implications of that, Zenyatta simply led the way back to his (what was it Genji had called it?) stateroom. Sombra was a strange person, but she seemed friendly enough. As long as Zenyatta kept her and Genji as separate as possible over the course of their voyage, he thought he’d be enjoying her company quite a bit.

And if he  _ couldn’t  _ keep them separate, at least the trip was significantly less likely to be boring.


	3. Siren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot finaaaaaally kicks in… god I’m so sorry it took so long everyone. The good news is that I’m a lot more confident in this chapter than I was in the last one ;u; The bad news is that Sombra, as always, seems to know more about what’s going on than I do.

They fell into a routine easily enough. Zenyatta started the day what Genji referred to as “obscenely early” - mostly because he liked to watch the sun rise over the water. The pinks and oranges blended into beautiful shades of purple. Genji would follow whenever the smell of food reached their stateroom, and then they’d eat together.

Then Genji would go off with Reuben to do  _ something  _ sailing related. At first, Reuben had tried to include Zenyatta in their conversations and work. But Zenyatta just wasn’t built for seafaring as it turned out. His knots came undone, ropes slipped through his hands, and blisters took entirely too long to heal.

So all too often Zenyatta was left without the two people he’d expected to spend his time with. Luckily, he had someone else all too willing to monopolize his attention in their place.

“Check mate,” Sombra said, sounding remarkably bored.

Examining the board carefully, Zenyatta moved his last remaining pawn. “Not yet.”

“But I want to be  _ done,” _ Sombra whined. “Even Spanish lessons are better than this.”

“We’ve already spent quite a bit of time on Spanish today.”

“My point exactly. C’mon Zen, I know you can be fun when you try!”

Zenyatta pursed his lips. He did want to get up and moving, truth be told. They were sitting on the deck, in the shade of one of the sails, and the sea around them was remarkably calm. It was a beautiful day, the sort that made Zenyatta feel like running.

“Maybe I should track down Genji,” Sombra mused, interrupting Zenyatta’s thoughts. “At the very least, I could get him to spar me.”

“I heard my name,” said a voice behind Zenyatta. He jumped, then sighed at himself. He needed to get used to the way Genji snuck up on everyone already.

Tugging Zenyatta to his feet, Genji gave Sombra a wary glance.  _ “What did she say?” _

_ “She wants to spar you.” _

_ “I doubt she’d pose much of a challenge.” _

“Is he forgetting that I can understand you again?” Sombra asked, standing. “Or is he goading me?”

“You two are incorrigible,” Zenyatta said in lieu of answering. He could already see Sombra slipping off her boots and Genji doing the same, anyway. It appeared that he was about to watch them mock-fight whether he wanted to or not.

(Truth be told, he did want to. He found every tidbit of Japanese culture that he learned from Genji fascinating, and he wanted to see how Sombra would adapt her hybrid powers to battle. Beyond that simple curiosity lay another, as well - the way the sunlight glinted off the sweat on Genji’s shirtless back. It wouldn’t do if Zenyatta thought about that too hard.)

The two of them squared off against the other, taking advantage of the unusually empty deck. Sombra had her fists up near her face already, and rested all of her weight on the balls of her feet. Genji kept his posture loose and comfortable by comparison.

As always, he moved silently and without warning. One second he was three feet away from her, the next he had a grip on her shoulder and was clearly about to throw her to the ground. Zenyatta was left gaping, trying to follow their movements.

Genji moved with more precise, practiced ease than Sombra did. It was strange, because Zenyatta would have expected the larger opponent to be the more animalistic one. But Genji fought without using his talons or teeth, whereas Sombra, well…

Her tail whipped around, the claws on it burying themselves in the seat of Genji’s pants before he could react. He yelped, a higher noise than Zenyatta had ever heard from him before, and Sombra laughed when he wrenched himself out of her grip.

That wasn’t to say that Genji was losing, however. He gave as good as he got, and Sombra was thrown over Genji’s shoulder onto the deck so hard even Zenyatta was wincing.

Just as they both began panting, clearly getting frustrated that neither had won yet, Zenyatta became aware of a strange sound. It was high-pitched, and reminded him vaguely of birdsong. Not any kind of bird Zenyatta had heard before, but it was fluting and beautiful and -

Sombra and Genji both fell to their knees, clutching at their heads.  _ “What is happening?” _ Genji gritted out.

Running to them, Zenyatta’s hand hovered over Genji’s shoulder. His mind was racing, wondering what had caused his friends so much pain so abruptly. Sombra had bitten her bottom lip so hard that it was bleeding, and Genji’s hands were so tight it looked as though he was going to rip his hair from his skull.

“Reuben!” Zenyatta called, panicked. “Reuben, are you there?”

All he heard in response was a pained shout. Reluctant as he was to leave Genji and Sombra alone, he  _ had  _ to go search for someone who could help. They didn’t have a doctor on board, but several of the sailors knew how to administer first aid. Then again, it wasn’t as though they were dealing with something as simple as a cut.

He hurried his way towards the helm, noticing as he did that he passed another collapsed person on the way. He didn’t know this particular sailor very well, but he did know one thing: the man was a gull Hybrid.

Whatever was happening, Zenyatta had a bad feeling about it.

Before he could find anyone to help, however, it simply… stopped. The sound faded into nothingness, and the gull Hybrid sat up and looked around with bleary, dazed eyes. Behind him, Zenyatta heard Genji growl in what was clearly annoyance, not pain.

For a moment Zenyatta hovered, unsure whether to continue looking for help or go back to Genji and see if he was okay. But then he heard the growl taper off into a low voice.  _ “Zenyatta, come here.” _

With a heavy sigh, Zenyatta turned around and obeyed. What he saw when he got back to his friends, however, had him cradling Genji’s cheeks in his palms. The gull Hybrid had simply looked a bit out of it, but Genji’s face was covered in  _ blood _ . It was still dripping from his nose in fat globs, and Zenyatta had to make sure there wasn’t any other damage.

_ “I’m fine,” _ Genji said, though the fact that his hands were shaking too hard to brush Zenyatta away was evidence to the contrary.  _ “Just, tell me what happened.” _

_ “There was a sound like birdsong, and then you and Sombra and - possibly every other Hybrid on the ship collapsed.” _

“Motherfucker,” Sombra spat.

Genji’s brow was furrowed deeply, and his tongue flicked out to lick the blood from his lips absently.  _ “Was it a siren? Or a banshee? There could be pirates coming, you need to get bellowdecks -” _

“Tell him to calm the fuck down,” Sombra said. “Neither of those could affect Hybrids without catching everyone else. This was a witch, and they don’t work with pirates.”

“Tell him yourself,” Zenyatta snapped back, then winced. He didn’t like being rude, but he was very, very worried, and still on edge.

Finally,  _ finally _ , someone arrived who could help. It wasn’t Reuben, but it was one of his sailors; someone Zenyatta was fairly sure was high ranking. She barked orders tersely, telling Zenyatta to get out of the way. “We’re gathering all the hybrids together,” she said. “Need to make sure none of them got hurt when they fell down.”

Opening his mouth to complain, Genji was abruptly shut up by Sombra stumbling to her feet. “Lead the way miss,” she said, stepping rather deliberately on Genji’s hand when he didn’t follow immediately. He got to his feet grumbling, but eyed Zenyatta until they lost sight of each other.

So now Zenyatta had nothing to do. And worse than being left to boredom, he was being left to  _ fret _ . He hated fretting. It could get out of hand entirely too quickly.

In order to keep himself as calm as possible, he ran down to the stateroom he and Genji shared. He picked up a book, filled with information about Nepalese monasteries, and started to read. He knew it was a lost cause almost immediately; he caught himself rereading the same sentence over and over again, and couldn’t retain any information.

Embarrassingly, his eyes were burning. He sniffled, tried to ignore his reaction to what was going on, but it was harder than usual. Zenyatta hated seeing people he cared for get hurt.

Memories flashed in his head, Lotte with a skinned knee and De Vries with a needle stuck in his thumb and Genji, all of that blood on his face, from something so minor. Zenyatta knew he was lucky that no one close to him had ever been injured worse than that. It didn’t make things easier to handle.

Suddenly he thought of something that was infinitely more embarrassing than bursting into tears would have been. Still, it might help, so he set the book down and walked to Genji’s trunk. With trembling hands he opened it, glad Genji wasn’t the type to lock it when he was away.

There were all of Genji’s clothes, thrown in without a care for folding or organization. How he managed to get them so messy so quickly when they had been in perfect order last Zenyatta looked was anyone’s guess. But the mess was so quintessentially  _ Genji  _ that it prompted a small smile from Zenyatta.

Glancing from side to side, though he knew he was alone and no one would see, Zenyatta frowned slightly. Then he brought a shirt up to his face and breathed deeply, taking in the musky, warm smell. It seemed a bit like an invasion of trust to indulge in this, but it  _ worked _ . The tears receded quickly, and his heart rate slowed.

As bullheaded and hostile as Genji could be, he was important to Zenyatta. He would be okay. He had to be.

\---------------

_ Beloved Mother and Father, _

_ The voyage has been going well thus far. I find that I quite enjoy the fish some crew members have been catching for us. It is difficult to get to know everyone, as they are so busy and do not always speak Dutch fluently. I am slowly becoming more familiar and comfortable around them, however. _

_ Genji has been moping since Reuben told him to spend more time relaxing. I think he enjoys being on the sea, but he feels the need to make himself useful. Language lessons don’t tempt him in the slightest. I am thankful for his company, however. He looks out for my safety diligently and provides some amusing commentary. _

_ Soon we will be stopping in Italy. I cannot wait to see the country for the first time. The waters around us are already so much warmer than they were when we left, and I cannot help but imagine that we are heading towards a tropical paradise. _

_ Your thankful son, _

_ Zenyatta _

Sighing heavily, Zenyatta put his quill down and replaced the stopper on his inkwell. He hadn’t been strictly honest, though he hadn’t blatantly lied either. Genji had only been told to “relax” because of a head injury. He insisted that it wasn’t serious, that it was healed already, but Reuben didn’t want to risk it worsening. Zenyatta was inclined to agree.

Currently, Genji was attempting to annoy Zenyatta into changing his mind. At least that was what it felt like. Since long before Zenyatta began writing his letter, Genji’s nails had been tapping a repetitive tattoo into the wooden table. One-two-three-four, one-two-three-four.

_ “Hey,” _ Zenyatta said. _ “Remember when you sparred with Sombra?” _

_ “It’s only been a few days,”  _ Genji replied.  _ “I’d be a fool to have forgotten already.” _

_ “Is there a name for the martial art you were using?” _

_ “... _ _ Jūjutsu.” _ Genji gave Zenyatta a very guarded look.  _ “Why do you ask?” _

_ “You seemed to be feeling a bit restless. I thought it might give you something to do.” _

_ “And you are insatiably curious about every-fucking-thing.” _

A light blush colored Zenyatta’s cheeks, but he nodded. _ “Yes, and that.” _

Almost a minute passed before Genji’s shoulders dropped a bit.  _ “Alright, I will teach you. But do not count on this being a regular event.” _

Valiantly resisting the urge to cheer, Zenyatta stood up from his chair. Genji, however, stayed sitting.  _ “Do you remember anything about how I stood when we sparred?” _

_ “Um.” _ Zenyatta bit his bottom lip in thought.  _ “Relaxed?” _

_ “Exactly. The first thing you must do before learning anything strenuous is make sure you are relaxed.” _

_ “How am I meant to do that?” _

_ “Start with stretching. Sit on the floor, with your legs straight in front of you, and try to touch your toes.” _

Zenyatta followed his instructions, a bit perturbed by the way that Genji hadn’t moved. Was he planning on simply ordering Zenyatta around the whole time? He’d hoped that he would at least get some kind of demonstration, when he’d asked for this.

A strangled cough had him looking back up at Genji. He had a bizarre expression on his face, and when Zenyatta tilted his head questioningly he looked away.  _ “I didn’t realize how flexible you were,” _ he explained.

Oh, was that - was he blushing? It was hard to tell with the scales, but Zenyatta thought he might be. A warm feeling blossomed in his belly, and he had to look away just as hurriedly as Genji had.  _ I wonder if Mother knew what she was doing when she paid for him, _ Zenyatta thought.

Well, regardless of if she knew, Genji’s possible interest was… flattering, to say the least. Especially considering Zenyatta had all but given up. The man made far too many jokes about how attractive he found women for Zenyatta to hold out much hope.

As Genji continued talking him through stretches, however, Zenyatta found that his mind turned to other, less pleasant matters.  _ “If all this is necessary, why didn’t I see you doing it before the sparring match?” _

_ “Several reasons. I’m highly trained, so I’m unlikely to harm myself accidentally. I was already warmed up from working on the ship all day. And,” _ here, his voice took on an unexpectedly bitter tone.  _ “I’m a Hybrid. We’re difficult to hurt.” _

That was all true, but it didn’t make the stretches any less tedious. By the time Zenyatta had satisfied Genji with his “relaxedness” he was already sweating lightly. And then Genji tried to talk him through side stepping, just side stepping, and he made Zenyatta retry it so many times that he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from making a snide comment.

_ “Weight on the balls of your feet, not the heels. Turn your head as you move, visualize where your opponent is. Don’t lock your legs, for the last time you will pass out if you lock your legs. Are you sure you actually want me to teach you?” _

_ I’m feeling less sure by the moment, _ Zenyatta thought.  _ “Yes,” _ he said.  _ “Could you just remind me how to position my feet right now? I feel like I’m going to lose my balance.” _

After a while it was almost meditative. Sure, Zenyatta still wished that Genji could be a more precise teacher, but his muscles felt warm and loose in a way they hadn’t in awhile. He couldn’t exactly go for long walks while stuck on the ship, after all.

His mind wandered a bit, to Sombra and what she had been up to since the incident. That was what she called it, and since no one else had a name better than “that weird time a whole bunch of Hybrids collapsed,” they’d followed her lead. Strangely, she’d been very subdued. She spent more time in the hold with their merchandise, or in her bunk scribbling in a journal. When Zenyatta had tried to sneak a peek at it, he’d found it full of a language he didn’t recognize.

Whatever was going on with her, he hoped that it wasn’t anything bad. He’d come to quite like her company, and would be disappointed if she were to stop spending time with him entirely.

\---------------

Baring her teeth at the paper beneath her, Sombra growled, “Hijo de puta.”

All of that work, and she still wasn’t sure what the idiot responsible for that noise had been trying to  _ do. _ She only knew that it was intentional, and whatever the goal was, they had failed.

The failure, unfortunately, was irrelevant. At any moment the perpetrator could finish their recalculations and try again, with vastly different results, and at this rate Sombra would not be  _ ready.  _ That was simply unacceptable.

She’d already set up some rudimentary defences, so at the very least she’d have some warning next time. But that wasn’t enough to satisfy her on its own. She had to know, beyond all shadow of doubt, what the sound was meant to achieve. She had only a few clues, at this point, and they were so disjointed as to be completely useless.

For a split second she considered recruiting Zenyatta to help her. The boy was a quick study, picking up Spanish almost supernaturally fast. Tutoring him in the rudimentaries of magic would be easy, and then she would have two inquisitive minds working at top speed, bouncing off each other. Even before she’d thought it through entirely, she already knew it was a terrible idea.

Aside from the fact that Sombra worked best alone, she didn’t want to get the little guy embroiled in the underworld she belonged to. He was too naive, too trusting. Genji could only do so much to keep him safe. So she was stuck figuring it out alone, on a ship, with none of her usual supplies.

This was a recipe for frustration if ever she’d seen one.

Sketching out the basics of yet another Circle, Sombra squinted at the page. Her candle was burning low, and she’d have to get a new one soon. Her eyes didn’t function as well in the air as they did in the water.

Here went “sound,” cyrillic this time, since the latin alphabet hadn’t helped in the slightest. And an older variation on the typical pictograph used as shorthand to refer to Hybrids en-masse. Connect the two using something simple, remember Occam’s razor, and -

Oh fuck no. Nope, no, Sombra was  _ so  _ not on board with this.

Worse, she couldn’t find a way to shield anyone from a completed version without a full university of resources at her disposal. Any inadvertent effects from the earlier mishap would be easy enough to reverse, but a completed version…

So it turned out that she had two letters to send. She grabbed a new sheet of parchment for the first, addressing it simply to  _ Reaper. _

_ Friend, it has been too long since I last saw you. You know where next I’ll be reaching land; meet me there, and bring our dear spider. I have information concerning more than just the three of us. Information which some of our elders would pay dearly to learn. _

_ In the meantime, tread carefully. If your own ears seem to be deceiving you, ask the nearest human what they hear. Sleep with a blade under your pillow. And, if worst comes to worst, you can always shove your fingers in your ears. I find that it doesn’t often solve problems, but it can certainly lighten them a bit. _

Smiling to herself, Sombra blew on the ink to dry it. She moved economically, rolling it, sealing it with wax from her candle, and setting it aside. The second letter was likely to be much longer than the first, and she needed time to think it through carefully.

It began, “Dear Oladele…”


	4. Thunderbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, idk how much my readers care, but just a note about nautical laundry in this fic - it’s not, strictly speaking, period-accurate. However there is magic in this universe and I’m a biased creature so I’m going to give them slightly better hygiene practices than they should have. Why not? Genji is already part dragon.

Of all the chores Zenyatta volunteered his services for, he thought that laundry was his least favorite. The salt water cracked and stung his hands, his shoulders ached for hours, and he got actual  _ complaints  _ from some of the sailors he helped about how stiff and itchy their clean clothes were. However, Reuben had insisted that the laundry get done  _ today _ , so here Zenyatta was. Helping.

It was a little better with Sombra working with him, along with the sailor who had directed Sombra and Genji to get to the surgeon after the incident. Zenyatta still didn’t know the woman well, but Sombra had developed… well, he didn’t know if he’d call it a crush.

He did, however, know that the woman’s name was Adelaide, and that she was very no-nonsense. He could see why Reuben liked having her on the ship.

When Sombra flicked water at her and got only a raised eyebrow in return, he could also see why Sombra liked her too. She reminded him of a cooler-headed Genji; she was certainly tall and broad enough. The thought of her with dragon scales, however, had him snickering into his washboard.

“If you two do not stop messing around, we won’t have the laundry dried before the storm hits,” Adelaide said gruffly.

“How do you know a storm’s coming?” Zenyatta asked.

Snorting, Sombra shook her head. “Doesn’t it say in any of those books you’re always reading?”

“You’re one to talk,” Zenyatta said rather than risk answering. He didn’t know how she’d react to finding out the actual contents of his books.

“I’m learning actually  _ useful  _ things,” Sombra replied.

Their needling was fun, and felt natural after knowing each other for so long. Zenyatta was a bit sad that she’d announced that she was disembarking in Italy. The second half of the trip would be less interesting without her.

Before then, however, they’d need to get through this storm everyone insisted was coming. Genji was up amongst the rigging, helping tie the sails or something. Personally, Zenyatta was getting a bit nervous what with the way people kept talking about the thing. They hadn’t had more than a drizzle since setting out, and he didn’t know what to expect.

Sombra dried her hands before reaching into the bag of jerky she’d pilfered from the kitchen. She pulled out a strip, took one bite, and then grimaced. “Hey Addie, does this taste bad to you?”

Adelaide rolled her eyes at the nickname, but obligingly took the strip and tore a piece off. “No?” She said after rolling it around in her mouth for a moment.

“Hmm. Must’ve gotten salt water in my mouth, oopsies.”

Zenyatta tuned out her hijinks and focused on getting his work done as quickly as possible. He had reading to get back to, after all. Reading about monasteries in Nepal, about the laws surrounding Hybrids in Italy, about traveling routes through India. Those laws, in particular, were worrying him even more than the storm was.

Though now that he thought about it, he could smell a hint of ozone in the distance. The sun was still shining, but he knew that could change fast out at sea. He sped up the pace of his scrubbing just in case.

Reuben made his way over to them a few minutes later, his customary smile firmly in place but a bit strained at the edges. “How’s it going?” He asked.

“Fine,” Adelaide said. “Slower than it goes when everyone does their own laundry, of course.”

“It ain’t my fault some of the men slack off,” Reuben grumbled. “And you know I can’t spare anyone else.”

“You could have someone trade with Sombra. She could help the bosun, he’s always complaining about needing a swimmer.”

“And have the whole deck department mutiny? I don’t think so.” Zenyatta looked between the two of them; he had a feeling this was an argument they’d hashed out before.

Next Reuben turned to him, his posture softening a bit. “How are you holding up?”

“Just fine,” Zenyatta said. “Genji’s already told me to stay belowdecks for the duration of the storm. I have plenty of books left to read, don’t worry.”

“Good, good.”

“What, not gonna ask how I’m doing?” Sombra said.

“I don’t need to ask how you’re doing. You won’t give me a straight answer for love or money.”

“Got that right,” Sombra said, toasting him with a piece of jerky.

Bemused, Reuben pursed his lips and turned to leave. Just then a member of the crew ran up to him, panting so hard that he couldn’t relay his message for long moments.

All amusement melted off his face when he heard what the crewman said, however. “We got a message back from the University of Naples. They said that they can’t count Sombra as a witch, on account of their laws classifying Hybrids and witches as uh, mutually -"

“Mutually exclusive. Damn,” Zenyatta muttered. His fears were being confirmed.

The sailor continued, “They said that they’d be sending their own witches to escort our Hybrids for the duration of our stay. They didn’t sound like Italians though, their names were Angela Zeigler and Satya Vaswani.”

An unexpected spark of hope lit in Zenyatta’s chest. “I know that name! Genji, come down here!”

Sure enough, Genji’s dragon-sensitive hearing had him climbing down the ropes and landing next to Zenyatta in only a couple of minutes. “Angela Zeigler is the name of the witch who performed your ceremony, right?” Zenyatta asked.

Genji quickly went as stiff as Reuben had when he’d heard the bad news. “Yes,” he said cautiously. Ironically, it made Reuben instantly relax, though his hands didn’t unclench entirely.

“Is she trustworthy?” Reuben asked Genji.

“Yes,” he said again. “Why?”

_ “Uh, the - the school? I’m not sure of the word in Japanese, but the witches’ place in Naples said they were assigning escorts to us during our stay. Angela was one of them,” _ Zenyatta explained.

_ “I know the word _ University,” Genji grumbled.  _ “Who were the others?” _

_ “Only one other,” _ Sombra chimed in. “Satya Vaswani.”

_ “Her, I don’t know.” _

While they spoke Reuben looked between the three of them, clearly confused. Zenyatta felt bad about him getting cut out of the conversation like this, but there wasn’t really any need to translate when they hadn’t learned anything useful. “So? Do you think it’s wise for us to agree to those terms? I didn’t want to risk strangers wandering about the ship, but if you know them…”

“Should be fine,” Genji said shortly. “Can I keep working?”

“Of course.” Reuben watched Genji climb back up the rope, a bemused smile on his face. “Zenyatta, I don’t know how you stand sharing a room with him. He’s a strange one.”

“He’s strange, but not unpleasant,” Zenyatta explained.

Sombra muttered, “I beg to differ,” under her breath, and promptly had to dodge Zenyatta’s elbow to her ribs.

A distant rumble wiped the smile off of Zenyatta’s face quickly. Reuben sighed, rubbing at his face. “You finish up and then get ready for the storm. It ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“I think we all know that,” Sombra said. But the snark was out of her voice. Together with Adelaide, they got the work done in only minutes. When Zenyatta descended to the gloomy insides of the ship, however, it didn’t feel like enough time at all.

\---------------

Clamping his hands over his ears, Zenyatta reminded himself, _ it’s okay. It’s normal. It’ll pass. _

Around him the ship was rocking, rocking, rocking. Before this he’d always thought seasickness was reserved for people with weak constitutions. Now he was having to swallow convulsively to keep lunch down.

For a while Sombra had been keeping him company. That had been better, provided a distraction. But then she’d been called to help with some emergency, she was so useful in the water after all, and here Zenyatta was. Alone. Useless.

_ Fretting, _ always fretting. If he didn’t find something to do soon he’d explode.

Then his door slammed open, and all he could smell was blood.

“Help!” Said a panicked voice. Zenyatta looked up to find Adelaide, soaking and red and wild-eyed. In her arms, she held Genji.

Zenyatta lept to his feet, vacating his bed immediately. Adelaide dumped Genji in, none too gently; Zenyatta couldn’t blame her though. She was pale as a ghost.

“There was a fire,” she explained. She didn’t sound like her normal, cool self at all. “He managed to put it out, but Ben wandered too close to it and - while Genji was getting him to safety, he fell. I don’t know how badly he’s injured. I need to get back out there.”

“Go,” Zenyatta said. “I h-have some supplies -”

She was already gone, and Zenyatta was talking to a closed door. He stood, frozen, for a split second. Then he heard a low groan behind him and snapped into action.

Bottom of his trunk, he had a box he hadn’t had to open at all so far. He dug it out frantically, willing his hands to steady already. Once he had it he was at Genji’s side in a flash. Genji was limp, but not unconscious. He tossed his head back and forth restlessly as the ship rocked on the waves.

“Hush, it’s fine,” Zenyatta babbled absently as he took out bandages. “It’ll be fine, it’s okay, just a scratch I’m sure.”

No sooner did Zenyatta have the bandages out than he realized Genji’s tattered shirt was sticking to the wound. Swallowing hard, Zenyatta peeled the fabric away. It was difficult to be gentle with the boat and Genji moving, but he tried his hardest. The wound looked both worse and better in the light - worse, because it was ugly and angry and so red. Better, because it was clearly shallow enough not to need stitches.

Actually wrapping the wound was much harder than Zenyatta’d thought it would be. Genji was just so  _ heavy, _ and keeping the bandage tight was a constant struggle. By the end of it Zenyatta also had blood smeared all over him. It was under his fingernails, stinging the cracks left by the soapy laundry water.

But at last it was done, and Zenyatta was able to sit back and breathe for long, exhausted moments. Genji groaned once more, then his eyelids fluttered open.  _ “Wh-what happened?” _ He slurred.

_ “Adelaide brought you to me,” _ Zenyatta explained. Genji’s eyes rolled towards him, but had trouble focussing. Zenyatta swallowed again.  _ “She said you got injured rescuing Ben.” _

_ “Fuck.” _ Genji rubbed clumsily at his eyes.  _ “Is the storm over yet?” _

_ “No. I bandaged you up, but if you need anything else just tell me, and I’ll get it.” _

_ “Did you clean the wound first?” _

His mouth opening slightly, Zenyatta felt his cheeks heat. Oops. Genji took in his expression and rolled his eyes.  _ “It’s probably clean anyway. Might’ve gotten some soot in it, but fire tends to kill anything that might get you sick.” _

_ “I can still clean it if you need me to,” _ Zenyatta said quickly.  _ “Soot might make it scar, right?” _

_ “How come a kid like you knows a thing like that?” _ Genji squinted at Zenyatta, who looked away quickly.  _ “Doesn’t work the same for me anyway. Hybrid, remember? I won’t scar.” _

_ “Are you sure? It was such a nasty wound.” _

_ “I’m sure. I don’t scar.” _ Zenyatta knew that some Hybrids were hard to scar, but impossible…

_ “Right. That weird thing Angela did,”  _ he surmised. Genji nodded.

Once again the ship bucked beneath them, caught in the grip of some great wave. Zenyatta shuddered, curling into a ball on the floor.

_ “W-what was Ben even doing?” _ Zenyatta asked. The conversation was so much better than the sound of the storm raging around them.

_ “Don’t know. It’s weird - he shifted his wings out like he was planning to fly. What kind of idiot would fly in this weather?” _

Ben was the gull Hybrid they had on board. He’d seemed generally sensible, but Zenyatta barely knew him well enough to recognize his name. Maybe he’d just been feeling particularly foolish, or had seen something Genji hadn’t.

Thunder rumbled through the ship, shaking Zenyatta’s frame. Or perhaps he was simply shivering? He couldn’t be sure, couldn’t find the words to articulate how he was feeling.

Golden eyes watched him in the dark, quietly calculating. Zenyatta had had to put out all his candles, so the room was illuminated only by a single lantern. It cast flickering shadows, and made Genji’s gaze look more alien than ever.  _ “Come here,” _ he said gruffly.

Helpless, Zenyatta crawled closer to the bed. Genji reached out with a large, clawed hand, and Zenyatta clasped it with both of his own. He’d forgotten that he was still rather bloody, and for a long moment Genji stared at the gruesome picture their hands made.

Shaking his head, Genji said,  _ “You’re an odd one.” _

_ “No odder than you. Diving in to save someone and then insulting them straight after, honestly.” _

The fondness in his tone was painfully obvious. Genji frowned at him, a more thoughtful expression than his usual scowl.  _ “I don’t know about that. You have a habit of making the strangest friends, like Sombra.” _

_ “You’re one of those friends,” _ Zenyatta reminded him gently.  _ “And I’m glad you’re on the mend now. You had me so worried.” _

His hands squeezed Genji’s almost convulsively. Genji tugged him closer, then, to his shock, pressed a kiss to the back of his bloody hand.  _ “Suppose I should thank you for saving me,” _ Genji said.  _ “I hope you don’t mind if this is all you get. I don’t exactly have much at the moment.” _

_ “Have you always been this smooth?” _ Zenyatta asked, laughing to hide his nervousness.  _ “No wonder you make so many sex jokes. You must be quite experienced.” _

Zenyatta instantly regretted phrasing it that way. Genji smirked, saying,  _ “At the very least, I have more experience than you.” _

And because he never thought before he opened his fat mouth, Zenyatta said,  _ “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”  _ Flushing, he snapped his mouth shut and looked away, but not before he spotted Genji’s widening eyes.

_ “What do you mean? You can’t possibly - that maid of yours? What was her name again?” _

“Lotte?” That surprised a laugh out of Zenyatta, despite his mortification.  _ “No, no. She’s like a sister to me.” _

_ “Who, then? I haven’t met her, have I?” _

For a second Zenyatta hesitated. It was only that pronoun that kept him holding his tongue; he knew that not everyone was particularly accepting of people like him, and the fact that Genji kept making assumptions didn’t bode well for this conversation. But, perhaps as a result of the tension still coursing through him, Zenyatta found he wanted to be honest.

“De Vries,” he said. _ “The tailor who made your clothes, remember him?” _

Frowning, Genji squinted at his face.  _ “But wasn’t he a man?” _

_ “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” _ Zenyatta said dryly.

_ “But, that’s - well, I suppose he did seem a bit feminine,” _ Genji mused.  _ “So you topped then? Good for you. I didn’t think you had the guts.” _

“Ah,” the question was unexpected, and made Zenyatta blush. He was about to answer, but Genji took one look at his expression and burst into laughter.

_ “Don’t worry,” _ Genji said between chuckles. _ “I won’t tell anyone. Your dignity’s safe with me.” _

_ “I’m not ashamed,”  _ Zenyatta said defensively.

_ “So why were you reluctant to tell me?” _

There was no easy answer to that one. Zenyatta was nowhere near ready to admit that he found Genji attractive.

Of course, the more Zenyatta wanted to hide something from Genji, the more perceptive Genji seemed to become. His gaze on Zenyatta’s face intensified, and Zenyatta shivered at the tingling feeling it sent down his spine. Unusually, however, Genji didn’t say anything about what he saw there.

Instead, he brought Zenyatta’s hands up to his mouth again, and licked his own blood from the knuckles. Shocked, Zenyatta squeaked and pulled away, but he only managed to get one hand free. Genji’s strength was nothing to underestimate, he remembered.

_ “W-what are you doing?” _ He stuttered, only remembering at the last minute to speak Japanese.

_ “Testing,” _ Genji answered. He squeezed Zenyatta’s hand, forcing his fingers to splay wide. Then, with an expression of intense concentration, he licked at Zenyatta’s middle finger.

His tongue was so hot that Zenyatta had a momentary thought that he might be feverish. But no, Genji’s eyes were clear and unclouded. Then Zenyatta remembered that he’d just swallowed who knew how much fire, and his mind stuttered to a stop. He couldn’t help but wish he’d gotten to see it. Hybrids using their powers was always impressive, but Genji in particular must have been  _ stunning. _ With fire glinting off his scales, maw opened wide, fire defying the laws of physics to come to him as though he were a lodestone.

Just when Zenyatta opened his mouth to say something, the door to his room banged open once more. They jerked apart, and Zenyatta hastily wiped his hand on his shirt to hide the damning evidence. For a second he worried that Adelaide was back with another casualty, but when he looked up it was at Sombra’s smiling face.

“Crisis averted!” She announced. “No one else should fall - wait, what’s he doing here?”

“Genji got injured rescuing Ben,” Zenyatta explained. Sombra squinted at him, then huffed a sigh and sat cross-legged on the ground beside him.

“So, any ideas on how to while away the hours before this storm breaks?”

“I was hoping to do it without your company,” Genji snarked. Zenyatta stared at him in surprise; his Dutch was still halting, but that sentence had been pretty complicated.

Laughing, Sombra wagged her finger at him. Her tail wrapped around Zenyatta’s shoulder’s at the same time, talons resting lightly against his arm. “You can’t keep my dear friend and I apart when we’re so close to parting ways. Even you aren’t that callous!”

“At least I’m not tasteless enough to stoop to - to - fuck.”

“Forgot a word there sweetheart? No worries, remember that  _ I _ can understand your language perfectly.”

The boast brought a scowl to Genji’s face, and a smile to Zenyatta’s. He couldn’t help but feel a bit curious about where his, ahem,  _ conversation  _ with Genji would have gone if Sombra hadn’t interrupted. But he would have plenty more time with Genji, to practice languages and  jūjutsu and whatever else they wanted. In comparison, his time with Sombra was precious, and he didn’t want to waste a second of it.


	5. Drider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey guys, guess who made a tvtropes page for this fic? Me, because I’m a huge nerd. I’m really not very good at using tvtropes yet, but you can check the page out here if you want to. Feel free to add tropes at will (but please don’t use the tvtropes page to offer criticism, it’s much easier for me to keep track of if you use AO3’s comments)!
> 
> In other news, this chapter posed a new conundrum for me. I sort of told myself “nooo, stop, it’s not professional to have everything be in English and use italics/bold/underlined for _three_ other languages,” but then I remembered that this is a fic and not professional writing at all. So for now, bolded dialogue is in Italian.

The dock in Italy was hot. The sun beat down on them relentlessly, and Zenyatta had been wiping his brow for the last half hour. His handkerchief was well on the way to soaking.

Angela, he found, was a pretty enough woman. She looked closer to Genji’s age than Zenyatta’s, and kept her hair tied harshly back in a ponytail. She’d greeted Genji with a kiss on either cheek, which Zenyatta had to avert his eyes from. Ever since Genji had - done  _ that  _ to his hand, he’d been feeling more awkward than ever about his attraction.

On the other hand, he had yet to meet Satya. She’d been held up with some kind of meeting at the University, so all of the Hybrids from Reuben’s ship were stuck waiting for her to arrive. In the meantime Reuben had left to book rooms for them in an inn.

At least Zenyatta wasn’t the only one feeling awkward. Ben kept glancing at between Genji and the ground, over and over. He’d already apologized to Genji thirty times since the injury, and if he said “sorry” one more time he risked Genji biting his head off (metaphorically).

He was about to go talk to Ben, maybe try to distract him from his worries, when someone tapped him on his shoulder. Turning, Zenyatta spotted Sombra’s tail disappearing behind some crates that had been brought to the deck of the ship.  _ She does love her theatrics, _ he mused.

Following her, Zenyatta almost made it around that same corner, when suddenly she reached out and snatched him. He yelped, but it was muffled beneath the palm of her hand.

“I’m sneaking off,” she whispered. “Don’t let those goody-two-shoes out there notice.”

Zenyatta rolled his eyes but nodded his assent, and Sombra released him. She leaned against a crate, casual as could be, and watched him carefully. “I figured if I couldn’t spend a little more time with you, the least I could do was give you a parting gift,” she said.

“Parting gift?” He wanted to see what Sombra considered an appropriate present, but the implications were like a splash of cold water to his face. “You won’t be staying even one more night?”

“Sorry buddy, duty calls,” she said. It was as serious as anything Sombra ever said.

There was a fluttering sound behind Zenyatta, but when he turned to look Sombra caught his arm. “Here,” she said, pressing a small, smooth object into his palm. “I made it out of a jangseung. If you ever need me, just whisper my name to it three times. Can’t promise I’ll respond, but it might come in handy either way.”

Curiosity made Zenyatta’s eyes widen. He had no idea what a jangseung was, but he could guess from the name that it was some sort of magical creature. The object she’d handed him was a small, wooden coin, carved with a strange little face. While he inspected it, she neatly sidestepped him and walked towards the sound he’d heard.

Wheeling around, he saw two unfamiliar Hybrids watching him. One was clearly an owl shifter; though his face was obscured by a hooded cowl, his sleeveless top revealed bristly feathers sprouting down the length of his arms. He was wearing all black, which must have been sweltering in this weather.

The other was a  _ drider. _ Zenyatta actually took an involuntary step back before he reminded himself that Sombra also looked fearsome, and was rather friendly. Still, he couldn’t help the shudder of instinctive revulsion when he looked into the woman’s eight eyes. She only wore rags to cover her breasts, but even if Zenyatta had been inclined to find women attractive he wouldn’t have liked her. Her skin was sickly pale, unusually creepy even for a Hybrid.

“Sombra,” the drider said. “I thought you didn’t want to risk exposing your loyalties to this crew.” Her voice had a surprising French accent, but it was belied by the clicking, creepy undertones of a spider.

“He’s not part of the crew, he’s a good kid,” she said dismissively. “Anyway, I wanted to introduce you. Zenyatta, meet Widowmaker and Reaper. Widowmaker, Reaper, meet my new best friend.”

Widowmaker? Reaper? They were fearsome names, but more importantly they were  _ clearly  _ codenames. Zenyatta wondered why they felt the need to hide their real names - and then realized that Sombra had never given her last name either.

“Well, bon voyage,” Sombra said. “I’ll be seeing you again, hopefully.”

“Bye,” said Zenyatta, at a loss as to how else he could respond.

Reaper’s arms lengthened, then sprouted feathers. They were the same dark grey as the feathers in his hair, but far less downy and rather intimidating. The whole time Reaper shifted them out, he didn’t look away from Zenyatta. He’d been so quiet, it was really pretty freaky.

As soon as his wings were fully out, Reaper lifted off into the air. He grabbed Widowmaker with one of the huge, taloned claws he had in place of feet, and grabbed Sombra with the other. For a moment, Zenyatta wondered how on Earth he expected to take off at all, let alone stealthily. But then he wrapped his wings around himself, seemed to spin for a moment - and was  _ gone. _

Sometimes, Zenyatta was powerfully reminded of how little he knew of the world.

But there was nothing he could do about it now, he supposed. Sighing heavily, Zenyatta returned to the little knot of people Sombra had summoned him away from. Genji gave him a curious look, but didn’t ask him any questions about where he had gone.

“So, Zenyatta,” Angela said when she spotted him. “Has Genji been behaving himself lately?”

Opening his mouth to respond, Zenyatta was shocked to hear Ben, of all people, cutting him off.

“He’s been wonderful,” he gushed. “We had a storm recently, Genji may have told you, and he risked his own life to save mine! I wasn’t paying attention you see, and -”

“Did you get injured?” Angela interrupted, an alarmed expression on her face.

Genji shrugged nonchalantly. “A few scratches. Zenyatta patched me up.”

“Thank you,” Angela said sincerely. “But I really think I should look at those too. I could take you to the University this evening, perhaps.”

“Could I come with you?” Zenyatta asked. Angela gave him a surprised look, and Genji’s eyes flashed angrily, but Zenyatta continued before either could say anything. “I might be able to learn a thing or two, and I’ll need that knowledge during the rest of our journey.”

Though Genji still looked ready to bite Zenyatta’s head off (literally, with the way he was grinding his teeth), Angela had a thoughtful expression. “I suppose that makes sense,” she said. “And you’re not a Hybrid, so it’s not like we’d have to drag Satya with us.”

“What is she like, this Satya?” Genji asked. “I do not like that the University sent a stranger with you. You are more than powerful enough on your own.”

“She’s a good girl,” Angela admonished gently. “And in point of fact she’s only coming because she wanted to find out if Reuben had any empty space. She’s just about finished her study at the University here, and was looking to head back to India soon.”

“We’ll have space,” Zenyatta said. “Since Sombra isn’t continuing the journey with us.”

“True,” Genji agreed. “And she cannot possibly be any more of an annoyance than Sombra was.”

“If you couldn’t be nice to her face, the least you could do is not talk about her behind her back.”

Rolling his eyes, Genji shot back. “Maybe I just do not know any compliments in Dutch yet, hm?”

Before Zenyatta could come up with a retort, a woman ran onto the ship. Her dark skin was flushed even darker by exertion, but she stubbornly controlled her breathing and calmed herself remarkably quickly.  **“Hello,”** she said in Italian.  **“My name is Satya Vaswani, witch of the Vishkar school. I’m terribly sorry for my tardiness.”**

Both she and Angela were wearing matching pale blue and white dresses, Zenyatta realized. It must have been the colors of the University; though they didn’t have uniforms, Universities encouraged loyalty, sometimes even at the expense of the country they resided in.

Angela translated into Dutch for her, and then Ben was shaking his head and smiling brightly. “No worries, we heard you got hung up. We gotta head to the inn pretty quickly, though, since Reuben’s waiting for us there.”

To everyone’s surprise,  _ Zenyatta  _ was the one who translated Ben’s words from Dutch back into Italian. Angela blinked at him blankly for a moment, and then Genji growled,  _ “How many damn languages do you know?” _

Cheeks coloring, Zenyatta muttered,  _ “I’ve been looking forward to this trip for a long time, is all.” _ He’d made a point of studying every language he expected to run into on the route there. The Japanese was just a bonus from listening to his father’s business conversations all these years.

Genji’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder.  _ “I know,” _ he said, and it sounded almost  _ fond. _ Zenyatta’s heart stuttered in his chest.

Luckily, they left before he could make a fool of himself. The trip to the inn was blessedly short, and to his surprise it was actually cool indoors. He didn’t know if they were somehow utilizing magic to get the effect, or if it was some trick of architecture, but either way he was impressed. Reuben was chatting with the innkeeper when they arrived, but politely broke away as soon as he caught sight of them.

Satya introduced herself much the way she had to the rest of them, then continued,  **“I was wondering if perhaps you would allow me passage on your ship. I’d originally meant to leave later in the year, but something has come up.”**

Even before she finished speaking, Reuben was nodding along.  **“We’re dropping someone off at this port, so that can be easily done. Speaking of, where is she?”**

_ Oops. _ Zenyatta had to fight every instinct in his body not to guiltily avert his eyes.

A short search around later revealed that Sombra was, in fact, gone. Reuben sighed heavily, rubbed at his face, and muttered something about how she wasn’t his problem anymore. No one seemed any wiser about Zenyatta’s role in her disappearance, for which he was grateful.

Ben and Satya headed up the stairs with Reuben to see their rooms. Zenyatta was about to follow them up, but Genji caught his arm at the last second. “Angela says it would be best if we left for the University now.”

“Right, okay,” Zenyatta agreed. He was kind of sad to be leaving the cool inn for the summer heat once again, though.

After spending so long in the confines of the ship, it was sort of nice to walk around an unfamiliar city. Genji and Angela paced quickly through the streets, clearly used to the sights and sounds, but Zenyatta couldn’t help but be fascinated. The smells of cooking food wafted through the air, voices shouted words he’d only ever heard when he practiced his Italian on his own.

There wasn’t a chance for him to ask Genji or Angela to slow down for him, though. Zenyatta ran to catch up with them, suddenly worried that perhaps they had a reason for rushing. Did Angela know something about Genji’s healing process that would make this urgent?

When the University came into sight, however, Zenyatta  _ had  _ to slow. It was just - it was magnificent. He’d read about Universities, knew that they were frequently quite the spectacle, but somehow he hadn’t expected them to be quite so  _ stunning. _

The front gate had two pegasi statues flanking it. They were exquisitely carved, which was impressive enough on its own. But even more amazing were their eyes, which were crafted from a sapphire-blue crystal. Zenyatta knew better, though. Those weren’t anything so mundane as a sapphire. They glowed faintly in the sunlight, betraying their true nature.

Lucidite. There were only a couple of veins in the whole world, and Italy had the only one in Europe. It wasn’t just the rarity that made it so precious, though. Lucidite was the most reliable and simple method of revealing the presence of magic in blood.

It was most often used to determine whether or not a common animal could be used to produce a Hybrid. A mundane cat would result in a failed ceremony, after all.

But it could also be used to reveal a Hybrid who had the ability to hide their inhuman features. The king of England had some, in fact, and forced guests to drip blood on it before they were allowed to attend his court. Zenyatta was far more interested in  _ that  _ use than the common one.

By the time Zenyatta managed to shake himself out of his starstruck state, Genji and Angela were far enough ahead that he had to  _ run  _ to catch up.

They had strolled through the ornate gate and onto the campus, then made a beeline for one of the buildings. It wasn’t the huge, hulking mass of marble that dominated Zenyatta’s field of vision, but rather a smaller wooden building that looked like it might have been a house. The walls were painted a quaint, pale blue.

Angela held the door open for Genji and Zenyatta, which struck Zenyatta firstly as very nice of her and secondly as sort of backwards. He couldn’t think on it long, however, since this University seemed determined to shock him at every turn.

Instead of having an entrance hall or foyer, the house opened directly into a massive, mostly empty room. There was a circle inset in the floor in some kind of dark metal; Zenyatta would bet money that it was a  _ perfect  _ circle, not even one lump or awkward bulge to be found.

Off to the side, there was a set of stairs leading upwards, and that was where Angela headed. “Welcome to my humble, ah, I suppose you could call it a base. The University provides excellent accommodations if you know who to ask.”

“You live here?” Zenyatta said, his voice clearly awed.

Waving her hand, Angela replied, “It’s really not as glamorous as it seems. My home is nearly always open to strangers, for instance. It does make this sort of check up remarkably convenient though.”

“Do you work for the University?” Genji rolled his eyes at Zenyatta’s question, but he  _ had  _ to know.

“I don’t give lectures, but they  _ are  _ helping fund my research.”

“Right, Genji did say his ceremony was a bit unusual.”

At that Angela froze, so suddenly that Zenyatta bumped against her back and nearly tumbled down the stairs. “Oops, sorry!” She said, voice gone awkwardly high.

“No trouble at all,” said Zenyatta. Genji was glaring at him. He had a feeling he’d just said something he wasn’t meant to.  _ Damn. _ And he’d been doing so well keeping Sombra’s secret too.

For the rest of the (admittedly short) time before they reached their destination, Zenyatta kept his mouth shut. The room they ended up in was small, with a couch, a desk, and a chest of drawers in one corner. Angela had Genji take off his shirt and show her where he’d been wounded.

Scales covered the newly-healed skin entirely. Angela prodded along the edges of it, pursing her lips. “How long did it take to close up?” She asked.

“About a day,” Genji said, sounding bored. “Scab came off pretty fast too.”

Heaving a sigh, Angela went to the chest of drawers and pulled out several items. Zenyatta stood in the corner, wanting to get a closer look but not wanting to invade her space while she worked. Also, not wanting to get too close to shirtless Genji.

Right at the place where tanned skin morphed into green scales, she pricked him with a needle. His chest stilled for a moment, but his facial expression didn’t change. Angela caught a couple drops of blood in a vial, stoppered it, then squinted at his face. “Any changes? Including before you got hurt. Your letters are sorely lacking in details.”

A grimace passed over Genji’s face, and his eyes flicked to Zenyatta for a second. He remained quiet, but the message was clear enough for someone who knew him well. Raising his hands, Zenyatta took a step back and said, “I’ll just check out the rest of the house. Be right back.”

He slipped out the door before either of them could respond. Closing it behind him, Zenyatta leaned against the wall in the corridor and sighed.

Really and truly, he hadn’t meant to listen in. But when the first words came (muffled but understandable) through the wall, his feet felt glued in place.

“Did a bunch of Hybrids on the mainland collapse too?”

“Yes. And Genji, plenty of them are showing symptoms. Dizzy spells where they shift or accidentally use their powers. Has anything like that happened to you?”

“Dizziness, but nothing else.”

“Was it the reason -”

“I got injured saving the gull from his own idiocy, that is all.”

“Either way, I don’t like it. Please be careful.”

“What, like you were careful when you made me  _ this?” _

There was a beat of silence. Zenyatta balled his hands into fists and willed his breathing to calm.

“I am sorry. It was wrong of me to bring that up.”

Laughter, entirely too bitter to belong to Angela’s pleasant face. “No, I think you’ve earned that right a long time ago.”

“Still.” Genji’s voice had gone hoarse with emotion. And finally, finally Zenyatta was able to tear himself away. He ran down the stairs, past the immense circle and out the front door. The air outside which had felt so stifling earlier was now refreshing. It was a hot slap in the face, a reminder that the world existed outside their personal dramas.

Dizzy spells. Zenyatta had to close his eyes against the wave of worry welling up inside him. What was going on? He hated not understanding, but he wasn’t going to invade Genji’s privacy, betray his trust, just to find out more.

\---------------

When they went to bed in the inn for the night, Reuben handed Zenyatta a sealed envelope. Smiling slightly, he opened it, relieved to have something good to end the day on.

There were some things he couldn’t escape, though, no matter how much paper he read and read and read. If he didn’t know better, he’d feel caught in some kind of web. So many things happening, and Zenyatta was only a fly, helpless amongst patterns too complex for him to understand.

_ Darling Son, _

_ I’m pleased to hear that your travels have been pleasant thus far. We’ve been missing you terribly back home, but your father is keeping himself busy with work. Lotte receives letters from Reuben which claim that you’ve been a great help with chores around the ship. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. _

_ Recently, there was a strange incident wherein many Hybrids suffered sudden attacks. Was Genji affected? I don’t mean to doubt his effectiveness dearest, but I want to be sure that my only son is as safe as possible on his voyage. _

_ I’ve been working on a surprise for you when you return. I think you will find it positively delightful. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy your stay in Italy, short as it may be. Remember to take breaks and enjoy the sun as often as you can. _

_ Signed, _

_ Your overbearing mother. _


	6. Takemikazuchi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter, a new conundrum. I want this fic to be accessable to underaged fans (or anyone who may be squicked by NSFW scenes) but Zenyatta and Genji’s relationship is far from innocent.
> 
> So! I’ll be compiling all NSFW scenes in a companion fic, titled “I Would Cross Oceans.” I’ll post a link as soon as the first chapter of THAT is up ^u^

“Ēk, dōn, tīn, cār, pān̄c, seha -”

_ “No, It’s  _ sahā. _ You’re picking it up pretty well, though.” _

_ “Why do I even have to learn to count to ten? I’m not a child!” _

_ “Numbers are always useful. Besides, you have to start somewhere, and this will help you get the pronunciation down.” _

_ “As if your pronunciation is always perfect.” _

Flushing slightly, Zenyatta shook his head at Genji. It was their first day back at sea, and Genji had actually come to him to request Nepali lessons. Zenyatta had been so, so excited.

And then Genji had proceeded to fight him every step of the way.

_ “My pronunciation in Nepali is flawless. Both of my parents grew up speaking it.” _

_ “Why didn’t you?” _

The question was unexpected, and Zenyatta blinked for a beat before answering,  _ “They wanted Dutch to be my first language. Life is easier if you don’t have an accent.” _

_ “I can understand that,” _ Genji said.  _ “I used to mock people who spoke broken Japanese. Look at me now.” _

_ “Look at what, you branching out?” _

Genji shoved Zenyatta’s shoulder, but one corner of his lips was quirked in an almost-smile. Zenyatta would count that as a win.

_ “Let’s do something else. Something I’m good at.” _

_ “More  _ _ jūjutsu?” _ Zenyatta asked hopefully.

Consideration made Genji’s brow furrow for a moment, but it quickly smoothed.  _ “Sure,” _ he said with a shrug.  _ “I’ll stretch with you this time.” _

That was nice of Genji to offer, but it made Zenyatta feel as though butterflies were fluttering through his belly. Their stateroom was relatively small, and in order for the two of them to stretch at the same time they’d have to be pretty close together. He couldn’t even hold out hope that Genji wouldn’t notice how flustered he was getting, since Genji  _ had _ noticed.

At least he had the good graces not to tease Zenyatta too much, this time. Or maybe he was just focused on the lesson? He seemed to genuinely enjoy the subject.

Suddenly, Zenyatta had the vivid mental image of Genji as a young man, smiling brightly as he sparred. It was so contrary to everything he knew of Genji, and yet… it made sense. He could imagine Genji as a human, more carefree and less angry.

Thinking like that wasn’t helpful at all to Zenyatta’s heart. He stumbled when Genji tried to walk him through a sidestep, and he nearly fell face-first onto his bed. When he got up his cheeks were hot, but Genji had a hand covering his mouth and his eyes were crinkling with the beginnings of a grin. So it wasn’t too bad.

_ “Don’t be too gentle,” _ Genji said as he carefully twisted Zenyatta’s hand behind his back.  _ “If you’re as careful with your opponent as I am with you, they’ll break free.” _

_ “You don’t have to treat me like glass,” _ Zenyatta mumbled.  _ “I might not be a Hybrid, but I’m not a child either.” _

_ “What, you think being eighteen makes you the most mature man out there?”  _ Genji snorted.

_ “I never said that.” _

Releasing Zenyatta’s arm, Genji gave him a long look.  _ “We could try a pin next,” _ he suggested.

_ “Whatever you think is best,” _ Zenyatta said, trying not to feel nervous. He really hadn’t taken particularly well to this stuff thus far, but he hoped it’d get easier with practice.

_ “Get on the floor. I’m not gonna throw you in here.” _

_ “On my back or my stomach?” _

_ “Back,” _ Genji instructed. Unsure what to expect, Zenyatta did so gingerly.

Then Genji straddled his waist, and his mind went utterly blank. All he could register was the warmth above him, the weight pressing down,  _ oh god please don’t let me pop a boner - _

Slowly, Genji walked Zenyatta through the steps of the move.  _ “If you lift your arm to get me off, I’ll be able to wedge my knee under it. Then I press my elbow to the top, and reach my hand around the back of your head.” _

Was Zenyatta breathing? He sort of thought he’d stopped breathing. At the very least, he felt lightheaded.  _ “R-right.” _

_ “Next I pin your other wrist with my free hand. I need to move quickly at this point, because I’ll be shifting around my weight.” _ Oh god oh fuck.  _ “My foot comes up on your bicep, I switch which hand is holding your head.” _ His face was mashed into Genji’s shirt, a smoky smell washing over him.  _ “Put my weight on my free hand, which allows me to wrap my leg around your neck.” _

It wasn’t a sexy position to be in. Even though Genji was gentle, the pin was designed to be uncomfortable and hard to break free from. Still, Zenyatta’s heart was racing for more than one reason when Genji finished showing him the move. And then asked him to try it himself.

If having Genji straddle him had been bad for his heart, then him straddling Genji was going to give him an actual heart attack. His pulse was racing wildly, and he hoped Genji would chalk it up to the workout.

The difficulty of the move took his mind off their position for a few minutes. Genji was just so much stronger than him, his tricep was hard to balance on, it was rather a wreck. Even though Genji mostly just lay there and allowed Zenyatta to try the move as many times as he needed, Zenyatta still ended up panting with exertion.

But then they ended up face to face, so close together their noses were almost touching. Zenyatta laughed awkwardly, releasing his grip on Genji’s head.  _ “I don’t think I have the hang of it just -” _

And they were kissing.

His first impression was that Genji’s mouth was strangely dry. And he tasted metallic.

He made a rather embarrassing noise and pulled back abruptly. Genji’s face was - strange. His mouth quirked into something that was half smirk and half worry.  _ “I thought you said that you had experience,” _ he said shakily.  _ “That was awful.” _

There were a hundred thousand words all vying for attention in Zenyatta’s head. He’d thought Genji wasn’t interested, or that if he was it was only in passing, he’d thought Genji was too full of fury and anger to let Zenyatta see him vulnerable. But saying any one of those words would open the floodgates, and Zenyatta still wasn’t sure if he knew Genji well enough. If those words would risk what relationship they’d slowly built.

So instead, he kissed Genji again.

\---------------

They ate dinner on the ship’s deck, surrounded by sailors they had come to know over the course of the journey. In comparison, Satya was clearly uncomfortable, spooning her stew into her mouth in silence. Amidst the drinking and chatting, she was an awkwardly quiet island.

At first, Genji had led Zenyatta to sit with some of the others who were often up on the rigging with him. Within minutes they’d all managed to get themselves thoroughly intoxicated on the cheap beer, which Zenyatta could hardly stomach himself. At the very least Genji seemed to be closer to sober, but…

Wrapping his arm around Zenyatta’s shoulders, Genji tugged him closer. He laughed too loudly, ate too quickly, was clearly faking the good mood. Zenyatta wanted to be close to him, but it was a bit, well, awkward.

Politely excusing himself, Zenyatta made his way to Satya. He figured giving her company would be enough excuse that Genji wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

She gave him a  _ look _ when he leaned against the railing beside her. It was all elegantly arching brows and incredulity. She couldn’t have looked more different than she had on the docks, out of breath and running late.

**“So,”** he said awkwardly.  **“You were studying at the University of Naples?”**

It was a while before she responded; so long that Zenyatta was almost worried she was ignoring him. Finally, however, she said,  **“I was on leave from the Vishkar University in India. The trip was meant to diversify my studies.”**

That made sense; Zenyatta knew Sombra had travelled quite a bit for the same reason.  **“What are you studying?”**

**“...Why do you want to know? You’re not even a witch.”** She said it with a sneer in her voice, and Zenyatta was momentarily taken aback.

Before he could formulate a response, the a significantly more muscular arm than the one he’d just escaped wrapped around him.  **“Our Zenyatta is a curious boy,”** Reuben said.

**“I see,”** Satya gave him an assessing look.  **“I study petromancy. It’s my understanding that hemomancy is much more common in the west, but Naples has a supply of -”**

**“Lucidite,”** Zenyatta said, eyes shining. It was true that he hadn’t found much reading on other rocks with magical properties; in fact, all he knew was that they existed.

Satya was giving him a look as though she’d just watched him eat off the floor.  **“I’d thank you not to interrupt me while answering my question,”** she said stiffly.

**“Oh, I’m sorr - ack!”**

A pair of clawed hands had suddenly grabbed Zenyatta’s waist and yanked him out from under Reuben’s arm. Zenyatta looked away from Reuben’s shocked and Satya’s affronted faces to see Genji… rather closer than he had been a second ago. “What are we talking about?” He half asked, half growled.

“Our guest here was just telling Zenyatta about her studies,” Reuben explained amiably.

_ “How much have you had to drink?” _ Zenyatta hissed up at Genji, but the only answer he got was a sideways glare.

**“As I was saying,”** Satya said.  **“I was in Italy to study the differences and similarities between their native lucidite and India’s tenebridite.”**

**“What does tenebridite do?”** Zenyatta asked.

**“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t find it interesting. It’s all rather complicated.”**

Bristling at the condescension in her tone, Zenyatta opened his mouth to defend himself, but Reuben cut him off.  **“Try him,”** he urged.  **“You might be surprised. He befriended the witch we had on the ship up until now.”**

**“You had a witch on board?”** Satya’s voice was so flat it was barely a question.  **“Why did no one tell me about this?”**

**“Were we supposed to?”** Zenyatta tilted his head, trying to remember if he’d seen a law like that during his research.

**“No, no,”** she said.  **“It’s fine. Tenebridite is -”**

_ “Zenyatta, what’s she saying?” _ Genji asked. Zenyatta squirmed, trying to dislodge him, but he held fast.

_ “Wait a moment,” _ Zenyatta said, but the damage was clearly already done.

**“I am beginning to regret booking passage on this ship,”** Satya griped.

Reuben gave her a sharp look.  **“What does that mean?”**

**“Only that University vessels have more people who understand the sanctity of my studies, and that I would not have to sleep in a hammock, surrounded by common sailors, if I had been on one.”**

**“You could share my stateroom,”** Zenyatta said tentatively. **“It might not be as nice as a University ship, but it’s more private.”**

**“Yours and the Hybrid’s, I’m sure,”** she said, sniffing.

**“I wouldn’t mind sleeping with the crew.”**

**“But I would mind sleeping with a dragon who could fry me easily. So, we are at an impasse.”**

Again, Genji jostled him and muttered, “Zenyatta -”

_ “She wants a stateroom, and I offered to move so that she could - would you stop that?” _

Apparently no, Genji would not stop tugging Zenyatta away from Reuben and Satya. Giving them the most apologetic look he could muster, Zenyatta reluctantly gave in. Genji led him to an empty corner of the deck, chewing on his lip the whole way. It was hard to tell in the low light, but Zenyatta thought he might have actually made himself bleed.

_ “What’s your problem?” _ He snapped. Zenyatta wasn’t an angry person, but Genji was getting on his last nerve.

Scrubbing his hands through his hair, Genji shook his head sharply. He seemed to be searching for words, but it gave Zenyatta a second to look at him carefully, and what he saw had his annoyance melting away immediately.

_ “Seriously,” _ Zenyatta said, putting a hand on Genji’s arm.  _ “What’s wrong?” _

Looking down at where Zenyatta was touching him, Genji huffed out a sigh.  _ “I’m sorry, I’m out of practice with this.” _

_ “With what?” _

_ “Fooling around.” _ Oh.  _ “I haven’t, well, since my ceremony…”  _ Ohhhhh.

Well, now Zenyatta was about as far from being annoyed as he could get.  _ “It doesn’t have to change anything,” _ he said hesitantly.  _ “We’re still friends, right?” _

_ “Friends, right.” _ Genji repeated.  _ “I just. If you found it… unpleasant, and want distance from me, I’d rather you tell me to my face. If I were to assume you enjoyed it, and continued to pursue you while you didn’t reciprocate, I’d never forgive myself.” _

Floored, Zenyatta could only stare at Genji for a second.  _ “No! Of course I enjoyed it!” _ He blurted, then covered his mouth with one hand and flushed.  _ “I wouldn’t mind doing it again, actually.” _

_ “And yet you offered your bed to the new witch.” _

_ “Not like that! She’s just uncomfortable, and I wanted to make her feel welcome.” _

Swaying slightly, Genji squinted at Zenyatta’s face. He hoped Genji hadn’t had so much to drink that he’d forget this by morning.

_ “Alright,” _ Genji said.  _ “I can switch beds with her.” _

_ “What? But you don’t even like her.” _

With his huge, clawed hands, Genji carefully cupped Zenyatta’s cheeks.  _ “But I like you, and I gotta make it up to you for being such a weirdo earlier.” _

Genji cut off any argument he could’ve come up with by kissing him soundly, then walked off before Zenyatta could recover. Shaking his head, Zenyatta trotted after him. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the unusual texture of Genji’s skin against his.

He got back to Satya and the others just in time to hear Reuben say, “Are you sure you want me to translate that?”

“Yes, please,” Genji said gruffly.

“Right, well then” shrugging helplessly, Reuben turned to Satya.  **“He says you can have his bed if you, and I quote, ‘promise not to be a dick to Zenyatta.’”**

Squeaking in shock, Zenyatta actually considered belatedly covering Genji’s mouth for a second. Satya had been touchy all night, and there he went cussing at her like it was no big deal! Except, actually, was she smiling?

**“I can agree to that,”** she said. She gave Genji a long look, as if she was reassessing him.  **“And on that note, tenebridite can negate magical energy. It won’t cause a Hybrid to revert to a human state, but it can severely stunt powers. Go ahead and tell him that.”**

As it turned out, Reuben had to translate again, because Zenyatta was still rather surprised. Were they actually getting along? Really? Satya, a witch from India, and Genji, the princeling turned bodyguard? He wasn’t sure he could believe it.

_ Then again, _ he thought as he watched Genji laugh at Satya’s explanation.  _ Sombra and I were thick as thieves by the end of getting to know one another, so I suppose I’m not one to talk. _

In comparison, the rest of dinner was rather calm. Genji, Satya and Zenyatta worked together to switch around Satya and Genji’s belongings, and then Zenyatta was left lying in the dark, trying to fall asleep. He’d wanted to read some, but Satya had put out the last lantern without asking him first, and he didn’t want to light it and bother her.

Things were all turning out rather more complicated than he’d thought they would. When he’d set off, he’d thought the hardest part of the journey would be finding the monastery in Nepal.

Instead he’d made a friend only to have her leave when he was barely getting to know her, he had a roommate he didn’t truly understand, and a bodyguard who was well beyond  _ complicated. _

He’d meant it when he’d said they were still friends. Zenyatta really did like being friends with Genji, teasing him and learning from him and teaching him in turn. He didn’t want to lose that. And he’d ‘fooled around’ with De Vries plenty without that ever changing their friendship.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized his attraction to Genji was… different from how he’d felt about De Vries. And that was dangerous, because fooling around was all well and good, but Zenyatta had never, ever intended for  _ feelings  _ to be involved. And now they were, and he didn’t know what to do.

A piece of him wanted to write a letter to his mother, or even to Sombra, asking for advice. But he didn’t know what he’d say. “Hey, I want to sleep with Genji but also hold his hand and braid flowers into his hair?” Yeah, right.

Drifting off into a fitful sleep, Zenyatta found he actually missed his simple life back in the Netherlands, just a bit.

\---------------

Reaper’s teleportation was inconvenient mostly by merit of its cost. Not many Hybrid powers necessitated the murder of a human each time they were used, after all. And the fact that he could only teleport to the location of his most recent murder only made it further useless in Sombra’s opinion. Still, they had to use it occasionally.

Especially when it came to something as big as the ceremony she was putting together right now. A ceremony which might save hundreds, if not thousands of lives, she might add. One or two sacrifices were more than justifiable.

If given the choice, though, she’d rather use the University’s messaging systems. They nearly all had enchanted objects which could expedite communication, and those that didn’t still had messenger pigeons in spades. Naples had been kind enough to help her get the information necessary to her various allies, even if they didn’t know it.

Sombra chalked another line along the middle of the circle, knowing without having to look that it would be precisely straight. She’d completed so many ceremonies that she could do the basics in her sleep. This one was going to take a bit more concentration once it actually got going, however.

On the edges of the circle stood six people. A seventh was cradled in the arms of one of them. They were all indistinct shapes, rendered hazy silhouettes by the thickening magic in the air. Still, it was clear that four of them weren’t human.

She’d already warned them that the ceremony might very well prove to be a waste of their time. She’d already clarified that she might be wrong about her predictions as to what was coming. But of the seven, three trusted her implicitly, and two trusted someone who would vouch for her. So there they were. Waiting for her to finish.


	7. Echeneis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Must nothing in this fic go the way I plan? I mean, I can’t complain too much, it’s pretty great to see myself improving in my improv skills, but still. C’mon kiddos, stick to the script!
> 
> Ah well, at least this fic is evolving? In some pretty cool ways? I hope my readers all enjoy the strangeness that is my plot, and also I hope it’s neither confusing nor utterly boring and predictable!!

Impossibly, this dock was busier and bigger than Amsterdam’s. Perhaps he shouldn’t say impossibly, since Zenyatta knew that Amsterdam wasn’t exactly the center of the world. But he’d grown up with stories of how the trading company brought the city to a golden age, so he’d always thought it was objectively massive.

Chennai had managed to dwarf it already, and they’d only been there for about an hour. The docks were full of ships, as many of them flying British flags as Dutch. Zenyatta wanted to stare around, at the people in their myriad colors and nationalities and clothes, but he was too busy.

Reuben had apologized, but they just didn’t have enough people to get everything switched around fast enough. They had to have their cargo for the Netherlands loaded by the end of the day, which meant they had to have everything  _ off  _ the ship as fast as possible. Really, Zenyatta didn’t mind helping. It meant he could spend a little more time with Reuben before they had to part for god knew how long.

Handing another sack to Satya, Zenyatta exchanged unsure smiles with her. She was actually sweating less than most of the sailors, clearly not unused to physical labor, and he admired that.

Their relationship wasn’t exactly friendly, in Zenyatta’s opinion. It was more of a truce.

Now, Genji and Satya’s relationship, on the other hand…

“Could you possibly move any slower?” Genji asked as Satya handed over her burden.

“Only if you could speak any slower,” she retorted. “How is it that my Dutch is better than yours, again?”

Well at least they’d finally found something that motivated Genji to learn languages. Sombra’s needling had made him self conscious, but the semi-rivalry he had going with Satya was doing wonders. Perhaps it was because Satya was new to the language as well?

Or perhaps it was just their personalities, Zenyatta conceded as he watched them. Satya’s smiles were somehow sharper than Sombra’s without ever needing the help of needle teeth.

Before he knew it the hustle and bustle of moving things was already finished, and he was standing beside his, Genji’s, and Satya’s belongings. Ben shook Genji’s hand enthusiastically, saying something or other about how he hoped to meet Genji again. Satya stood on her own, clearly antsy to get going.

But Zenyatta didn’t even know where to begin with saying his goodbyes. He was still closest to Reuben of all of the crew, so he tried to walk up to him to say goodbye. As soon as he stood in front of Reuben, though, he found that his tongue was tied in knots.

He would miss him, of course. But he was so excited to finally be here, so close to his destination he could almost taste it. Literally - the air was saturated with the scent of spices and salt.

Seeming to take pity on Zenyatta, Reuben reached out to ruffle his overgrown hair affectionately. “You make sure to write to me,” he said firmly. “I expect a pile of letters when I get back to Amsterdam.”

“Seems like I’m collecting people to write to, these days,” Zenyatta said sadly.

“Well that’s the price of adventure, isn’t it? You have to leave people behind.”

Surprised, Zenyatta blinked up at Reuben. Then, just because he could, he darted forward and hugged his friend hard.

With a chuckle Reuben returned the hug. It was comforting to be wrapped up in so much muscle and warmth. Zenyatta had known Reuben since he was little, and now it felt like he was the last bit of connection to Zenyatta’s childhood.

He’d wanted to grow up though, hadn’t he?

The ship wasn’t leaving just yet, but Zenyatta, Genji, and Satya’s stagecoach was. They’d decided to leave the docks together, since they were headed in the same direction at first.

They spent the first portion of the ride in silence, but eventually Zenyatta was just too uncomfortable to stay silent any longer. “What do we need to buy at the market again?” He asked, partly just to have something to say. The chances of him actually having forgotten the list were slim.

Luckily, Satya had made a habit of underestimating his intelligence. “New clothing for you, for one. I’m not bringing you into Vishkar as my guest while you look like some travel-stained cabin boy.” Fair enough; Zenyatta’s clothing had certainly seen better days. At least Genji’s had held up rather well, having been new when they set out.

However, the second item on her list was a bit… well, Zenyatta winced just remembering the argument it had sparked. “And a collar for Genji, of course.” Scowling, Genji turned away, and Satya glared at him. “If you don’t like it, blame the British,” she muttered.

There was just no way around it; until they reached Nepal’s border, Genji would have to wear a collar. Like a common hound. Or, unfortunately, like every other Hybrid in both England and their economic allies. As Hybrid restriction laws went, it was quite possibly Zenyatta’s least favorite.

Satya went on to list a couple more odds and ends she wanted to pick up, but they were unrelated to either witchcraft or Hybrids. As she finished, Genji finally looked back at Zenyatta and said, “We should get him a haircut too. He is starting to look like a girl.”

“Hey!” Zenyatta touched the ends of his hair self consciously. It  _ was _ almost touching his shoulders, wasn’t it? He hadn’t noticed. How had Genji kept his hair so short throughout the voyage? Zenyatta didn’t remember seeing him cut it. “I like it longer,” he said finally.

Giving him a swift once-over, Satya nodded. “I will have to agree; the current length suits him. Perhaps a hair tie would do instead?”

“Hmm, that might actually be better.” Genji reached out and ruffled Zenyatta’s hair, a casual gesture that sent a tingle down Zenyatta’s spine.

As soon as the stagecoach stopped, Zenyatta was hopping out and dancing from foot to foot. He may or may not have been inches from kissing Genji just then, and in front of Satya - it was mild to say that was a bad idea. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with Genji, however, Zenyatta may very well have been bowled over by the market.

For all that the docks had been impressive, for all that Naples had also had open-air markets, this was just so much  _ more. _ Stall after stall lined up haphazardly, with people practically crammed into the gaps. Shouting filed the air, Hindi words that Zenyatta could barely parse. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he’d actually have to rely on Satya for translations during this part of their journey.

Overwhelmed, Zenyatta had to wait for Genji and Satya to follow him out of the stagecoach. They took their time, talking to the driver briefly to work out rates or somesuch.

“Collar first,” Genji said as soon as his feet hit the dirt. “I do not want to have to think about it any longer than necessary.”

“Right this way,” said Satya. She strode off, somehow weaving through the crowd gracefully.

Behind her Genji shouldered his way through, but Zenyatta was left floundering. Swallowing his pride, he grabbed onto the back of Genji’s shirt, determined not to lose his traveling companions.

She led them to a cluster of stalls which all sold leather goods, saying, “Pick quickly.”

Snorting in derision, Genji shot back, “As if I would want to take my time here.”

Zenyatta actually wouldn’t mind taking their time; he’d packed enough money, and there was some stuff there he hadn’t even seen before. Also, they had such a variety of collars, gilded and embossed and otherwise adorned, he was half afraid it would take some time to actually find a plain option.

In the end he grabbed the most tolerable one he could see and bought it quickly. It was a huge, ugly thing, with an iron buckle and a thick, brown strap. But he knew without having Genji try it on that it would fit, and he was able to hand it over for Genji to wear it in under a minute.

The sound of Genji’s growl as he put the collar on was actually fearsome enough that a couple of passersby sidestepped away from him. Zenyatta couldn’t blame them.

Next Satya led them to some vendors Zenyatta was rather more enthused by. Genji grumbled about what a waste of time it was, but Zenyatta was free to ignore him for once. It was no coincidence that he and De Vries had been close.

Clothing was just so  _ fun. _ Getting the chance to try on new things, especially things from another country, was endlessly fascinating to him. Satya seemed rather taken aback by all the questions he threw at her, “How do you wear this,” and “What’s this called?”

Eventually he selected white, cotton pants and a couple of angarkhas. The tops were richly embroidered in oranges and reds, and cost him a pretty penny. They were remarkably comfortable, however, tying around his body with enough slack for ease of movement. Satya even commented that he looked “halfway decent” in them.

Genji reluctantly followed Satya as she picked up incense and other things for the University, then they were on their way again. The stagecoach driver looked rather bored as they approached, but he smiled slightly when Zenyatta thanked him for waiting.

Once again they set off, the bumpy roads jarring Zenyatta occasionally. He focused on his new clothes, and studiously ignored the way Genji kept rolling his neck and then freezing, suddenly remembering the presence of the collar by the unexpected restriction. Zenyatta could practically feel the thunderstorm of his temper brewing, far more frightening than anything had been on the water.

“Come here,” Satya said after a while. Zenyatta looked at her, surprised, to see her crooking a finger at him. “I need you closer if I’m to do your hair.”

“Do my hair? But, I thought -”

“Did I not say that it would look better tied up?” She sounded impatient, but there was a glint in her eyes that Zenyatta actually liked.

Hopping over to her side of the seats, Zenyatta turned away from her as best he could to give her access to his hair. He could feel Genji’s gaze on him, almost a physical thing, but the sensation of Satya combing her fingers through his locks was so pleasant it had his shoulders slumping anyway. “Your hair is nice and thick,” she complimented. “So it should hold a style.”

“Thank you,” he said awkwardly. He thought this might have been the nicest she’d ever been to him. It wasn’t unwelcome, just… odd.

Swiftly, she tied his hair into a single tail with a leather cord then waved him off. He sat down next to Genji once more, unsure what to say. It was odd having his hair out of his face for once; he didn’t know how he had gone so long without noticing what a nuisance it was growing to be.

There were a few bursts of stilted conversation between the three of them, but by the time they left the city they were pretty much quiet. Around them the buildings dwindled, until the only thing to see through the curtains was unfamiliar flora and fauna. Thankfully, the road beneath them stayed in good repair. Universities had the funds to ensure they stayed easily accessible.

Trees and bushes blurred together as Zenyatta zoned out. He thought the air might be fresher here than it had been literally anywhere else he’d ever been. Though they were only just out of sight of civilization, he felt like he was properly in the wilderness.

_ Not just yet, _ he told himself.  _ But we’re getting closer to it. Prepare yourself. _

“When we get to Vishkar, I’ll have to lead you straight to my rooms.” Satya said suddenly. “I have a meeting with one of my professors. I will give you a tour afterwards.”

For a beat there was silence, then Genji was rounding on her, teeth bared. “Why didn’t you mention this before now?”

“Because it isn’t as though you two will be particularly busy. This is only a short, overnight stop for you regardless.”

Though she said it with relative calm, Zenyatta couldn’t help but be suspicious. Maybe Genji was rubbing off on him? Well, at least he still had more tact than his hot-blooded friend, who huffed and went back to staring out the stagecoach.

“What’s your professor like?” Zenyatta asked politely.

“Korpal is an intelligent man,” she said. “Mild-mannered, but he does not hold back with criticism.”

“Do you know what the meeting’s about? It’s nothing bad, right?”

She hesitated, but shook her head after only a small pause. “Of course not. He just wants an update on my research prior to my submitting a full report.”

“I see.” Zenyatta wished he had some way of asking her to elaborate, but she seemed rather reluctant to talk any further. Resigning himself to spending the rest of the ride in awkward silence, Zenyatta heaved a sigh. He missed Sombra. Hell, he already missed Reuben.

\---------------

Despite her troubled thoughts, Satya still felt a glimmer of pride when she saw the wonder on Zenyatta’s face. Yes, her home  _ was  _ rather impressive, wasn’t it?

Vishkar was no ordinary University. The main spire towered, tall and sharp, like a glittering silver dagger thrust towards the sky. It was massive, clearly held up with some form of magic. And it would look even more impressive at night, letting off a faint sheen that even Satya didn’t know the source of.

Now, however, she didn’t have time to bask in the most beautiful constant of her childhood. She shepherded the boys out of the stagecoach, paid and sent the driver off to the stables. Students would take care of moving their luggage to her suite.

Then it was into the spire (through a side door; the main entrance was more impressive, but would take longer) and up a seemingly endless staircase. Thirteen flights, and they came to a nondescript, dark wood door. Satya lifted a key from a necklace she’d kept tucked into her dress, and unlocked it easily.

Her quarters were nothing spectacular, in her opinion, but she heard Zenyatta gasp anyway. She supposed the fact that the wooden furniture and deep blue accents might be impressive to the untrained eye - but then, she realized, it was likely the mural.

Painting it had taken her ages. It had started as an exercise, an intricate, perfectly symmetrical pattern to draw on the walls when she felt overwhelmed by the disorder around her. But it had ended up a hobby, and then something soothing to allow her eyes to trace as she lay on the couch. After so many years, it was background noise to her, but Zenyatta seemed entranced.

Amazing, what thin, golden lines could do to a boring blank wall. Zenyatta toed off his shoes and padded across her rug-covered floor, then touched the wall with his fingertips. “Beautiful,” he breathed, and it actually stung Satya’s chest for reasons she couldn’t understand.

“How long did this even take?” Genji asked, disgruntled. Satya smiled, because  _ this  _ was a reaction she could respond to.

“Years,” she said simply. “I didn’t count. Feel free to make yourselves at home, but kindly refrain from going through that door,” she pointed to indicate what she was referring to. “As that is my bedroom, and I prefer to keep it private. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

As she shut the door behind her, she caught a glimpse of Zenyatta’s startled face. She didn’t know why he was surprised, since she had warned them, after all.

What she hadn’t warned them about was that she’d be locking the door behind her. But she couldn’t risk them wandering off, and she’d hopefully be back to unlock it before they realized what she’d done.

Up she went once more, seven flights and then out a door into a curved hallway. She strode down it purposefully, Italian shoes clicking against the stone floors. The communal spaces in Vishkar were harsh, all solid quartzite and granite and no give at all. Many students found it intimidating when they first arrived, but Satya had always found it comforting.

Through another door, this one requiring a different key from her necklace. Then up more stairs, though it was only four flights this time.

And finally, she found herself standing before Korpal’s door.

Anxiety fluttered in her belly. She had been furious when he’d summoned her attention in Naples, just minutes before she was meant to meet Angela at the docks. But then he’d started talking (communicating utilizing the powers of a banshee Hybrid he’d created), and…

Questioning her superiors was not something Satya particularly liked doing. The world was simpler when it was divided into black and white, learned and ignorant, us and them.

Yet Korpal had been both entirely too cryptic and unintentionally revealing. It wasn’t like him, to let slip that he had a Russian friend with a vested interest in seeing Satya while also failing to provide her with any way to actually meet that person. He hadn’t even given her a  _ name, _ which seemed like a basic requirement, really.

Also, she had to consider what he’d said about Hybrids. It hadn’t seemed too unusual at the time, that he was concerned tenebridite may have as yet unforeseen reactions to prolonged exposure to Hybrids. But she’d been spending so much time with Genji, and… quite simply, Satya had suspicions. And when she had suspicions, there were usually rats.

Lifting her hand in a fist, she knocked sharply on the door.

“Enter,” Korpal said. Though it was muffled, she’d recognize his deep voice anywhere.

Slowly pushing the door open, Satya took a deep breath to center herself. She was momentarily overwhelmed by the smell of candle wax, a constant whenever Korpal was around.

When she caught sight of him her resolve faltered temporarily. There he was, wearing blue and gold, his unusual, sapphire eyes bright as ever. Perhaps the crows feet at the corners of his eyes were a bit more pronounced now, the grey streaking his hair a bit more noticeable, but he was the same man who had taught her to read and write.

“Satya,” he said in Hindi, standing and walking around his enormous desk. “I’ve missed you.”

Swallowing hard, she replied, “I missed you as well.”

“How did Italy treat you? Naples was welcoming, I should hope.” He clasped his hands to her shoulders, the closest to a hug either of them would get.

“Yes. They provided me with plenty of samples for my research.”

“Ah, your research,” he released her and walked back to his desk. “I apologize once more for calling you back so suddenly. I know it must have been inconvenient.”

“No, it was no trouble at all. I was a bit, ah, confused as to the reason, however.”

A smile appeared on Korpal’s face. It was sharp-edged as always, but it gave an unfamiliar gleam to his eyes that set Satya’s teeth on edge. “I was not at liberty to explain, then. But things have changed for the better.”

“For the better?” She sat at the chair reserved for guests, staring across the desk at him. The chair was lower than normal, intended to give him an intimidating height advantage, but Satya was tall enough to make up for the difference. “I don’t understand.”

“The world is changing, Satya. And we have Volskaya to thank for it.”

“Volskaya?” She stood without even thinking about it, her hands hitting the edge of the desk in shock. “You told me this was a University matter, not some money-grubbing company sticking their fingers where they do not -”

“Satya, sit back down. This behavior is unbecoming of someone I raised.”

His disapproval weighed on her like a ship’s anchor. Swallowing, she obeyed.

Korpal continued as though he had never been interrupted. “Katya Volskaya is an intelligent, enterprising woman. She reached out to me on the subject of your research. You see, she has found a way to increase both her own profit and our standing. People will once again respect the name of Vishkar.”

“They still respect our name,” Satya said faintly.

Shaking his head, Korpal said, “I need your cooperation, Satya. There are very few people who could oppose our plan, and they all have something you want.”

Head aching, Satya breathed, “Tenebridite.”

Was it the smell of the wax? The lack of windows? She was dizzy, almost faint.

“Do I have your cooperation, my dear?”

“No.”

They stared at each other, equally shocked. It had never even occurred to Satya to flatly turn him down. She’d opened her mouth expecting to say something along the lines of,  _ please reconsider. _ Or, _ I will need more details. _ Not this. Never this.

Before she could take it back, she stood and turned on her heel. Marching out the door, she studiously ignored him calling after her. The return trip to her room seemed to take only a fraction of a second.

Throwing open the door, Satya interrupted Genji and Zenyatta’s conversation to announce, “I will be journeying with you to Nepal after all.”


	8. Empusa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Must nothing in this fic go the way I plan? I mean, I can’t complain too much, it’s pretty great to see myself improving in my improv skills, but still. C’mon kiddos, stick to the script!
> 
> Ah well, at least this fic is evolving? In some pretty cool ways? I hope my readers all enjoy the strangeness that is my plot, and also I hope it’s neither confusing nor utterly boring and predictable!!

They ended up on a caravan headed towards Nepal the very next day. Zenyatta was rather confused by Satya’s sudden change in disposition, but the fire in her eyes reminded him of Genji when they’d first met. She snapped at the slightest provocation, but at least she wasn’t being cold towards him anymore.

Though Zenyatta was glad for the convenience of the caravan, he found it rather… pungent. On top of the smell of the horses, they were carrying a cargo of spices. The normally pleasant fragrance was so overpowering it stung Zenyatta’s nose.

If he found it annoying, then Genji found it positively infuriating. Satya seemed to find some solace in teasing him throughout their first day of travel, asking him if his Hybrid nose was sensitive enough to actually pick out the varieties of spices they were traveling with.

By the time the sun was setting, all three of them were irritable and exhausted. The caravan pulled to the side of the road, forming a half circle with their wagons before hitching the horses and settling down to build campfires.

Unlike on the ship, the traders they were travelling with were less than delighted that they were traveling with both a Hybrid and a witch. That, combined with Zenyatta and Genji’s language barrier, meant that they were eating slightly separated from the crowd that night.

One bite into his curry had Genji actually spitting into the fire. “This is disgusting!” He announced with a glower.

Quietly, Zenyatta shovelled another spoonful into his mouth. He thought it was delicious.

“It may not be to your taste, but perhaps you could complain more quietly,” Satya griped. “Just because they cannot understand your language doesn’t mean they’re deaf to your tone.”

Baring his teeth, Genji said (with deliberate loudness), “I cannot eat this.”

“Ah, how about we go hunting?” Zenyatta suggested. “During the day we could easily nap in the wagons, so it’s fine if we stay out late.”

“Fantastic idea.” Genji set his bowl down with a clatter beside Satya, then stood and offered his hand to Zenyatta. “Care to join me?”

“Me? But, I’ve never -”

“I’m teaching you to fight, aren’t I? Might as well teach you a thing or two about hunting too.”

“Those things are completely unrelated,” Zenyatta argued. He wanted to finish his curry, but Genji seemed adamant. And Satya was no help, smirking in amusement as she watched him futilely argue. Finally, he relented, but only after shoving as much food into his mouth as his cheeks could carry. When Genji commented on his lack of table manners, he stuck his tongue out.

Genji led the way into the dark undergrowth at the side of the road, leaving Satya to explain to their hosts where they were going. Zenyatta struggled to keep up with him in the dark, while also remaining mindful of the twigs and leaves on the ground which he might step on.

The further they got from the light of the campfires, the more unsettled Zenyatta felt. He kept hearing sounds from the foliage, rustling which could have just as easily been the wind as an animal, or a creature coming to -

“Boo!”

Instinctively grabbing at the thing which had suddenly popped up in his face, Zenyatta flipped it over his shoulder. It wasn’t until he was looking down at the ground that he realized it was Genji.

“Hillarious,” he said flatly. Genji flashed him a toothy smile, the first one of the day.

Against his will Zenyatta found he couldn’t hold onto his irritation, and he ended up sitting heavily beside Genji on the ground. Slowly, Genji recovered from being winded and sat up too. “I taught you well, didn’t I?”

“I suppose so.” The low light glinted off of Genji’s reflective eyes, turning them more silver than gold. They were just as gorgeous as always, however. Zenyatta had to force himself to look away.

“Hey,” Genji said softly. Zenyatta looked back up, aiming to put his gaze somewhere past Genji’s shoulder, but was shocked to find a hand under his chin and lips pressed against his. He made a startled noise, but Genji only firmed the kiss.

There was a split second where Zenyatta worried - about their vulnerable position in the woods, about the fact that his lips were chapped, about himself tasting like curry, about a million other things. But then he breathed, and smelled clean, night air. And the char scent of Genji, and faint sweetness beneath that. His heartbeat calmed.

As kisses went, it was rather fantastic. Beyond that first moment it was gentle, and slow, and though it wasn’t chaste it wasn’t demanding either. Zenyatta was free to open his mouth when he wanted to, coaxing Genji’s tongue inside slowly. They inhaled together at the feeling, a small burst of pleasure like candy in his mouth.

Pulling away, Genji stroked Zenyatta’s jaw with his talons. “I haven’t had nearly enough chances to do that,” he said.

“We can fix that,” Zenyatta replied, hooded eyes locked on Genji’s lips.

“Mmm, yes we - what was that?”

“Huh?” Genji was already pulling away, pupils blown wide, then he  _ pounced. _

Zenyatta scrambled through the brush after him, thinking bitterly of how he’d struggled not minutes before. If he’d thought following Genji then was hard, he hadn’t accounted for just how crazy it would be to attempt the same while Genji was moving at full speed, on all fours, and uncaring of how loud he was being.

A sudden scream ripped through the night, causing Zenyatta to stumble. He fell face-first into the ground, pain lancing through his nose for a moment. Though he cried out at the feeling, he forced himself back to his feet. He had to make sure Genji was okay.

He found his friend closer than he had expected. The Hybrid was half-collapsed on the ground, making a strange, guttural noise. “Genji?” Zenyatta said, creeping closer with small footsteps.

The noise cut off, and then Genji looked up. He was wild-eyed, and his face was covered in  _ blood. _

Falling to his knees, Zenyatta cradled Genji’s cheeks in his palms. “Are you okay?” He asked, a sick sense of deja vu filling him.

“Am I…” Genji blinked twice, the manic light leaving his eyes. He looked dazed instead of crazed now, but it was no better. “What happened?”

“You went off chasing something, I think, and now -”

“Oh,” Genji looked down at his hands. “Well, I suppose I’ve got dinner.”

Then Genji was abruptly releasing the mangled animal corpse and hunching over. He retched, and Zenyatta was sure that he would’ve smelled bile if his nose wasn’t so clogged with blood already. He rubbed Genji’s back, feeling a bit queasy himself.

“What is happening,” Genji rasped, once his belly was empty.

Stunned, Zenyatta could only shake his head. “I don’t know.”

Their trip back to the caravan was very, very subdued.

At the wagon they’d stored their belongings in, Zenyatta motioned for Genji to stop. He took out his water and and a cloth, careful to be quiet enough not to wake Satya. Then he crept back, one hand clasping Genji’s, the other holding his supplies.

Once they reached the edge of the area that made up their campsite, Zenyatta sat Genji down on the ground for the third time that day. Genji obeyed him silently, his lips shut so tight Zenyatta was half convinced he’d never open them again. Slowly, he began to clean Genji, wiping the blood from his cheeks and chin with as much care as his mother had shown him when he was small.

“It was that sound,” Zenyatta said once Genji was as clean as a sponge bath could get him. “It has to be.”

“Does it matter?” Genji’s voice still sounded wrecked, and it scraped like sandpaper against Zenyatta’s heart. “Even if we know the cause, we cannot prevent it from happening again.”

This was both true and supremely unhelpful. Once again, Zenyatta cupped Genji’s cheeks, though this time it was more to make sure he maintained eye contact and less the simple, overwhelming fear. “Maybe we can’t prevent it. But if there’s anything I can provide to help, comfort, food, anything, I will do it for you.”

Luminous eyes locked with Zenyatta’s. Genji took a deep breath through his nose, then murmured, “Help me forget.”

Desperation fueling his movements, Genji kissed Zenyatta again. It was as different from their last as day was from night. His hand fisted in Zenyatta’s hair, held him still when he jerked in surprise. Genji used every bit of his superior strength and bulk to push Zenyatta backwards; it was utterly overwhelming, so much so that Zenyatta had to bite his bottom lip hard enough to taste blood just to get him to slow.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he chanted, muffled against Genji’s lips.

“No,” Genji insisted. “Now is not the time for  _ patience.” _

An idea occurred to Zenyatta, at once dangerous and alluring. But everything about this evening had already been dangerous, so he figured a bit more couldn’t hurt.

“Get off of me,” he ordered. Genji started to protest, but he cut him off with a look. “You’ll get your wish if you can wait for five seconds.”

\---------------

Afterwards, Zenyatta was kind of worried that Genji was going to be strange again. Not that he would blame him - between the strange hunting incident and the issues he had with his Hybrid body, his life could charitably be called complicated.

Except that wasn’t what happened at all. The next morning he woke up with the sun, and found Genji already humming some gentle, unfamiliar tune as he helped prepare for travelling. Even the wariness of their caravan companions didn’t bother him. Satya was so weirded out she was actually staring, and eventually said, “You’re in a rather good mood. Did a succubus wander into the camp last night?”

“Better,” Genji said with a wink. Zenyatta blushed and ducked his head, hoping Satya wouldn’t notice. He could hardly believe how well that had gone.

As the day wore on, he felt more and more suspicious. Nothing about this trip had been easy. There was no possible way that cheering Genji could last, no matter how enjoyable the event itself had been for both of them. There had to be a catch, some pitfall he wasn’t noticing.

When the sun set once more and found them in a remarkably similar clearing, Zenyatta was the one who was twitchy. Satya served him a double portion of curry in an attempt to cheer him up, and all it did was make him frown harder. He didn’t know how he could trust the peace they’d fallen into.

Sitting beside Zenyatta just as he had yesterday, Genji nudged his friend gently. Zenyatta looked up to find him closer than expected. “What happened to that smile I’d just gotten used to, hmm? Used to be nothing I said could make it go away.”

“Perhaps it’s just the travel wearing on me,” Zenyatta said. “We have been rather busy lately, compared to what it was like at sea.”

“Come now, Zenyatta. We’ve known each other too long for that to work.”

“I was being serious.”

“As am I.” Genji shook his head as Zenyatta petulantly ate more rice. “How can I convince you?”

Bitterly, Zenyatta shook his head. “I don’t know. Genji, I barely know anything about you. It doesn’t feel like we’ve been together for so long, does it?”

Even though he didn’t look up from his food, Zenyatta could feel the incredulous stares from Satya and Genji. Clearing her throat, Satya said, “I am, ah, going to sit with the others for a bit.”

She did, which left Genji and Zenyatta alone beside their smaller campfire. The wood crackled, small sparks floating upwards to mingle with the stars in the night sky. Zenyatta took a deep breath, preparing himself to apologize. Being in a bad mood was no reason to snap at Genji like he had.

Then Genji started speaking, and stole the words unspoken right out of Zenyatta’s throat. “When I was growing up, I was a bit of a brat. I drove my brother and father crazy.”

“W-why - Genji, you have no obligation to tell me this.”

“Perhaps not. But I want to, and I should’ve told you a long time ago, so.”

Pausing, Genji stared into the flames thoughtfully. Zenyatta watched the firelight glint off his dark, short locks, and thought about how recently he’d had his hands buried there. He wanted to reach out and touch Genji again, but wasn’t sure how.

“It may be hard to believe, but I used to be rather irresponsible. I was always off drinking, or finding girls to spend the night with. My family is of some prominence, and my behavior wasn’t befitting of a common servant, much less a young heir.

“While my father was in charge of our estate, he tolerated it. I suppose he thought I’d grow out of it, if given enough time. And I am sure I made him laugh more than once.”

Here, Genji paused, and anger came into his expression. “My brother looked less kindly on it. When Father fell ill, he began pressuring me viciously to change my habits. In response, I only dedicated myself more fully to a life of… I don’t know how to say it.”

_ Hedonism. _ Zenyatta thought the word, but his tongue seemed heavy as a stone in his mouth.

“Regardless, this was a… bad idea. Father died, and -” Cutting himself off, Genji took a ragged breath. When he continued, he was deceptively calm. “Apparently, the family elders protested my behaviors even more, ah, furiously than my brother. They ordered me killed, and honor demanded that he be the one to do it.”

The fire crackled. Someone told a joke in Hindi that got quite a bit of laughter. And Zenyatta stared, and stared, and stared.

“Do you miss him?” He said eventually.

Genji doubled over, and Zenyatta panicked for a moment before he realized he was  _ laughing. _ “I tell you, hah, my brother tried to kill me and your first question is if I  _ miss him?” _

“What would you rather have me ask?” He demanded. But Genji was laughing too hard to respond, and Zenyatta found his lips curling up as well.

Once the laughter died down, Zenyatta said, sincerely as he could, “Thank you for telling me.”

“No more questions?” Genji teased. He sounded genuinely surprised, though.

Because Genji had been so brave with sharing things tonight, Zenyatta decided to take a risk too. “No need,” he said softly. “I’ve got all the time in the world to ask.”

The smile that he exchanged with Genji was a small thing. But the way Genji grinned back, all sharp teeth and happy, made Zenyatta’s heart swell to twice its size. It gave him the courage to scoot a bit closer, to murmur in Genji’s ear that they should sleep all tangled up together tonight as they had the night before.

Somehow, despite the fear of judgement or rejection, Zenyatta fell asleep that night wrapped up in Genji’s warmth. He felt profoundly safe, and hopeful, and perhaps a bit naive for the first time in a long while. It was a welcome feeling.

Maybe that was why Zenyatta didn’t question it when he woke to find Genji twisting and turning restlessly. He opened his eyes to the pale orange of dawn, and already there was a ghost of joy on his mouth. “Settle,” he said softly. “We don’t have to be up for a while yet.”

Still, Genji was shifting around. Zenyatta hummed and groped around for his face, trying to pat it affectionately. Sleep made him clumsy and careless.

Pain ripped the shreds of sleep away from him violently. Zenyatta jerked his hand close, eyes flying open, and this time all he saw was  _ red. _

Around him, the forest was burning.

Sitting up straight, Zenyatta looked around wildly. Genji was crouched a few feet away, fingers clawing at the soil and slit pupils down to almost lines. He snarled wordlessly, utterly feral.

“Get away!” Satya shouted, her voice cracking with the force. Dully, Zenyatta thought he’d never heard her speak above a conversational tone before.

Blood bloomed before his eyes, and at first he thought it was spray coming up from the teeth marks on his palm. But that made no sense - and then he heard Genji’s scream, so close to that of the animal from the night before. Only Genji wasn’t dead, and Satya had gotten rather close to him before lashing out with the knife.

Zenyatta scrambled out of his blankets and tried to get to her, but of course he couldn’t move fast enough. Genji’s talons were swiping at her face in under a second, and then she was the one reeling back and crying out.

There were chaotic sounds coming from around them, but Zenyatta couldn’t seem to focus on them. All he could see was the standoff between Genji and Satya, and all he could hear was -

_ Singing. _

Already, it was fading away beneath shouts and roaring flames. But it was unmistakeable.

“No, no, no,  _ no, no, no, no!” _

For a split second Zenyatta’s terrified chanting caught Genji’s attention. He turned, and his eyes were filled with nothing but animalistic hunger. There was no sympathy there, no worry, just pure dragon. Thankfully, if Zenyatta’s pitiful reaction wasn’t enough to get Genji calm, it  _ was _ enough to give Satya a chance.

This time she darted forward, and simply buried the knife in his shoulder. Snarling, Genji collapsed momentarily. Before he could pull himself together she was abandoning the blade and grabbing Zenyatta, then  _ running. _

Stumbling behind her, Zenyatta said, “W-wait, what about -”

“Half the group was dead by the time I got to you,” she snarled.

Together they ran, breath coming harder and harder, muscles burning. Satya’s grip slipped from Zenyatta’s wrist to his hand, but luckily it was the uninjured one. Zenyatta’s mind went blissfully blank in the panic of the flight.

Satya deemed the roads too dangerous to follow, which left them stumbling through foliage. It would’ve reminded Zenyatta of Genji’s hunt if not for the  _ fire. _ They avoided it as best they could, but Zenyatta still ended up with slightly singed shoes.

Around noon, the adrenaline finally ran out. Zenyatta and Satya collapsed together, half on top of each other. He was sort of surprised she didn’t just shove him off of her, but he supposed the sweat sticking to her and the blood crusting on her face was enough to negate any remaining semblance of  _ propernes _ s she might want to adhere to.

Gently, Zenyatta reached out to touch her cheek. “What happened?” He asked, voice wobbling. He couldn’t believe Genji had clawed her like that, left three big rents on her beautiful brown skin. Then again, the double-crescent on his hand was deep and painful too.

“I don’t know,” she said, surprisingly furious. “We need to get back to Vishkar. They have some explaining to do.”

“Do you think they had something to do with this?” Zenyatta asked. He’d begun shivering, though he couldn’t understand why. It was plenty warm outside.

“Yes.” Groaning, she raked a hand through her disheveled hair. Neither of them had their hair tied up as usual. “I knew there was something wrong when we visited. I should have pressed for answers. I’m sorry, it’s because of me that -”

“No,” Zenyatta cut her off. “It isn’t. You didn’t know this would happen.”

“I suspected,” she said faintly. “God, Zenyatta, I’m glad you didn’t wake up until the last second. A skōlex Hybrid got into the camp, probably a bandit by the way he was dressed. It was -  _ fuck.” _

“Deep breaths,” Zenyatta said. Satya laughed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle halfheartedly too. Both of them were still panting between words.

“We need to go back,” she said again. “They know something, and they have the defenses necessary to keep us safe.”

“We can’t. I have to get to Nepal.”

“You can’t seriously still be thinking about your lifelong dream of  _ adventure.” _

Shaking his head, Zenyatta said, “It was never about that. There’s a monastery there, a safe place for Hybrids.”

“That’s the  _ last _ place we want to be right now. For all we know,  _ all _ the Hybrids could be going berserk.”

Now Zenyatta smiled. It was brittle, but it was there, and rather determined. “That’s the thing. Something I read said that you can’t use magic in the monastery, and you can’t get magic  _ into _ the monastery. I couldn’t figure out how that worked, and I wanted to research it. But…”

“Tenebridite,” Satya breathed. “Holy shit.”


	9. Janseung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re ready for angst and you know it clap your hands! Things have to get worse before they get better. I hope everyone is prepared - but if you’re not, there’s no shame in skipping past the first pov shift in this chapter. There’s some gore early on; you have been warned.
> 
> Also, underlined dialog is in Nepali. Three cheers for multilingual environments.

For so long that her throat was sore, Satya argued with Zenyatta. He won, of course, simply by merit of being much more stubborn than she was. But she still thought they were making a mistake. She was of half a mind to leave him to go back to the ruined campsite by himself.

But every time she closed her eyes she saw visions of that morning. Of blood and flame and the hideous, heart-wrenching confusion on Zenyatta’s youthful face. With images like that hounding her, she had no choice but to follow.

Catching sight of the clearing was at once relieving and horrifying. Relieving, because neither Genji nor the unfamiliar Hybrid from earlier had lingered. Horrifying, because…

“Oh, god,” Zenyatta covered his mouth with his hand, but his words were still audible. Satya was inclined to agree.

Bodies were littered about like discarded dolls, the stink of burned flesh hanging over them in a haze. Some of them looked to have been partially eaten - Satya didn’t know enough about fauna to identify what, exactly, had been gnawing at them, and she didn’t want to think about it too much. Counting the bodies, Satya realized that two of the men they’d been traveling with were missing. She hoped they’d gotten out alive.

The fire had reached partially into the clearing, but hadn’t quite decimated their wagons. Which was good news, because the entire purpose of coming back was to get as many supplies as they could carry. Unfortunately, the horses were all gone or dead, so they would have to continue on foot. Satya shivered and firmly pushed away the thought that Genji could easily outrun her.

She thought, for a split second, that perhaps Korpal had been right. If Genji could so quickly go savage at the lightest touch of magic, perhaps he was too dangerous to befriend.

And then she remembered that Volskaya had a hand in this, and shook her head irritably. It was entirely possible that they’d try to convince others to think just that way, but Satya was too smart to fall for such a transparent ploy.

Zenyatta picked his way around the tacky, bloody ground in order to get to his belongings. They were scattered throughout the camp, having been relatively close to Genji when he’d awoken. Satya’s, however, were exactly where she’d left them. Eerily untouched in the midst of the ruin.

Slowly, she approached the wagon housing her trunk, wariness almost overwhelming her. She didn’t know what she expected to happen, only that she couldn’t believe it would be this easy.

It  _ was  _ that easy, though. She took one of the packs from the wagon, emptied it, and opened her trunk to fill it with her own things. This would be much more portable.

Staring down at the saris in Vishkar’s navy and gold, Satya shivered once more. She couldn’t wear them. Not without knowing what exactly they’d done. Instead she loaded up with food and the few ritual supplies she’d brought. She hoped it would be enough.

A small sound from Zenyatta had her wheeling around, scanning for a weapon immediately. “No, no,” he said quickly. “It’s fine, it’s just, I’d forgotten about this.”

He held up a wooden disk, roughly the size of a large coin. Satya squinted at it, sensing that something in it was odd, but unsure what. “What does it do?”

“Sombra gave it to me,” he explained. “It can let her know we need help. I’m not sure if she’ll be able to answer, but it’s worth a try.”

Then he brought it up, close to his lips, and whispered, _ “Sombra, Sombra, Sombra.” _

Visually, nothing happened. But Satya could feel the gentle pulse of magic his voice had set free, and knew that whatever the thing was intended to do, it had done.

Part of her was uncomfortable; she didn’t know or trust Sombra. But a much larger part knew they needed all the help they could get.

Together they cooked a meal in silence. It was best to eat as much as they could, since they wouldn’t be able to carry much. They ate just far enough that they couldn’t see any bodies, but the scent of charred flesh still wafted to them occasionally. Despite knowing they should be eating more, neither had much appetite.

They left as soon as they could no longer bear to wait. Satya sincerely hoped this Sombra had created the coin such that it might be a beacon, and would not simply communicate their location at the time of its activation.

Though she was far from lazy, Satya was also far from being used to walking quite so much in a single day. Her feet blistered quickly, her back felt rubbed raw from the pack, and her shoulders ached for no reason she could understand. Worse, her face was a constant, stinging reminder of the morning. Genji’s claws had sunk so deep she was worried about scarring.

Just when she was about to break down and ask Zenyatta to rest a while, he abruptly sat on the trunk of a fallen tree. “I won’t be long,” he said. “I just, think that perhaps we need a bit of a break.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Satya said as she sat beside him. “We have a long way to go.” It took effort to keep her exhaustion out of her tone, but she managed.

Taking a break did have an unexpected disadvantage, however. When they weren’t moving Satya felt acutely aware of each sound around them. She knew, logically, that it was a good thing animals hadn’t vacated the area. It made it no less startling when she heard a rustle behind her, or the snap of a twig to her left.

_ You need to calm down, _ she told herself harshly. _ If you keep this up, you’ll be the one collapsing halfway to your destination. _

\---------------

Every few seconds Satya would jerk towards some half-heard thing, before catching herself and relaxing once more. Then the process would repeat itself over and over and over again. Zenyatta was kind of getting fed up.

However, he couldn’t exactly criticize her. He himself was feeling out of sorts, and he couldn’t imagine any sane human being handling the current situation well. Every time he blinked, he saw the carnage from before. His hand throbbed and he studiously avoided looking at it. Genji’s absence was salt in the wound, a cruel cosmic joke.

_ It’ll be fine, _ Zenyatta thought.  _ Sombra will get here, and make travelling fun again. _

Wind meandered through the trees; no ahuizotl Hybrids materialized. Zenyatta heaved a sigh and told himself to be patient.

Since he’d caught his breath and had a moment to think, Zenyatta stood and offered his hand to Satya, “Are you ready to keep going?” He asked.

“Of course,” Satya said with a sniff. She didn’t seem to realize that Zenyatta had noticed her exhaustion already, but he didn’t want to tell her. Let her have what little dignity remained now that her hair was sticking to all her exposed skin thanks to sweat and drying blood.

Minutes trudged past with painful slowness as they trekked through the forest. Zenyatta focused on putting one foot in front of the other, only occasionally looking up at the sun to ensure that they were still headed the right direction. He wanted a compass to navigate with, or a safe road to follow, or a horse to ride.

Really, he wanted Genji back. But if nothing else, he knew life wasn’t that simple.

Doubt tried to creep in on the edges of his mind, but he shoved it aside. He knew that, realistically. Sombra might not be able to get to them. They were so far away from where she’d been when last he’d seen her, and she had a friend who could teleport - she might be on the opposite side of the world. Beyond that, she might be feral, or be fighting off other Hybrids herself.

Realism was no help at the moment. Zenyatta  _ needed  _ hope, needed to believe she would come. So he ignored logic and  _ believed. _

Fuck but his feet _ hurt. _

Breathing steady through sheer force of will, Zenyatta took another step. Then another.

Just the other day he’d thought he was so close to his destination. Now, he couldn’t feel further.

At least he wasn’t alone. Satya’s silent company was surprisingly fortifying. She looked more approachable than ever, ironically, with her hair in utter disarray and her clothing bloody and ripped at the hems. Gone was the unflappable witch he’d barely gotten to know, and in her place was someone as out of breath and tired as he was.

The sun sank with such agonizing slowness that Zenyatta almost didn’t notice it getting dark. It was only when he began stumbling, unable to see branches in his path, that he realized they would need to stop soon.

They slept rough that night. Zenyatta woke over and over, plagued by nightmares, and ended up too antsy to wait any longer as soon as dawn broke. In the thin light, he woke Satya, trying his hardest to be gentle.

He still ended up with a knife pressed to his throat. But as soon as the haze of sleep cleared from her eyes, Satya pulled back, muttering something apologetic.

“Not a problem,” Zenyatta said. It really wasn’t.

In a few hours it became even less of a problem, when Satya walked a bit too close to his back and he twisted. Before he could even think about it she was on the ground, flipped over his shoulder in the same manner Genji had been.

Like Genji, she was stunned for a moment, then she huffed a chagrined laugh. “I suppose it is a good thing we have both developed these reflexes.”

Though he nodded in agreement, Zenyatta felt an ache deep in his chest, behind his lungs. He didn’t  _ want  _ to have developed these reflexes. In the light of day, what had been a playful moment between he and Genji took on different connotations.

Without even meaning to, Zenyatta had become dangerous.

Pensive as he was, he didn’t notice the rustling behind him until it was too late.

Something burst from the bushes behind him, barreling into his lower back before he could react. He went down hard, breath knocked out of him, and was stunned into stillness for a split second.

That was all the creature needed. Searing pain shot up Zenyatta’s legs, and a scream drove the last of the air from his lungs. Satya jumped into action, lashing out with the knife, but his assailant retreated off of him before she could land a blow.

Sitting up, Zenyatta blinked through the haze of tears. His first impression was miles of pale, spongy skin, and a mouth like a circle of sawblades.  _ Skōlex. _

Except that, when he looked down at the ruins of his legs - only a glance, couldn’t afford to get preoccupied - he knew Satya’s identification had been wrong. Skōlex didn’t produce acid.

Again it dove at him, perhaps thinking it could drag his prone form out of Satya’s reach. It was the last mistake the Hybrid would ever make.

Zenyatta had its wrists caught and his leg around its throat in a moment. He was morbidly pleased that he still had the leg strength to strangle the air from its throat, though some of that was likely a result of adrenaline. He was more instinct than thought at the moment, but if that was what it took to stop the thing from killing him, he’d take it.

“I cannot die here,” he snarled. Or thought, perhaps, his mind was fuzzy but -

_ Thunk, _ and the Hybrid went limp in his grip. He followed the line of a pale blade to Satya’s dark hand, and watched dazedly as she pulled it free from the skull. Looking back down, he saw the sightless gaze of the worm Hybrid, whatever kind of worm it was. Their eyes were oddly human compared to their horrifying mouth.

Consciousness slipped away from him before he could think anything past,  _ just like Sombra. _

All he was aware of for a long while was swaying. Gentle, constant swaying, and singing in a language he almost recognized. The sounds were familiar, but he couldn’t piece together the meanings of the words. The singing faded in and out, barely audible, but it gave him something to focus on. A thread to follow back to awareness.

As soon as he opened his eyes, Zenyatta decided he was either still dreaming or on his way to heaven. Because he was looking  _ down  _ at treetops.

Greenery blurred with the speed he was going, and his hair whipped and stung his cheeks. Zenyatta was in awe, and didn’t even become aware of the pain in his arms until something shifted against his bicep. Turning his head, he caught sight of immense talons, clamped firmly around his arms and holding him in place.

“W-what?” His voice came out hoarse, but it was strong enough to catch the ear of the thing carrying him. Immense wings paused in their flapping, and when Zenyatta studied them he found, to his surprise, he recognized them. “Reaper.”

“You were attacked by an olgoi-khorkoi Hybrid,” Reaper explained. His voice reverberated oddly, far too audible despite the rush of wind in Zenyatta’s ears. “If you want to survive, you need to tell me the location of this monastery now.”

Swallowing, Zenyatta almost looked down at his legs before he stopped himself. Sombra  _ had  _ come. He could survive this.

If only they could find the monastery in time, which… “I d-don’t know,” Zenyatta admitted. “It’s very well hidden, about all I could find w-was that it was close to Dolpo.” His teeth were chattering as he spoke, making it difficult to talk, but he didn’t feel cold. Was it the poison that had eaten away at his legs?

For a while after that, the world was a haze. Zenyatta was losing time, lucid one second and utterly gone the next. He was aware enough to marvel as they passed by a city, the streets laid out more chaotic and beautiful than any map. But then he blinked, and it was gone, not even a memory in the distance.

His legs tingled, blessedly numb. His hand still ached enough to ground him. His shoulders hurt from holding his body weight for so long.

Was Satya okay? Was Sombra with her? Would they make it in time?

A rather dark part of him whispered that they might not. That his mother and father might never again receive a letter from him. That Genji might come back from his feral state only to find his employer, his charge, his friend…

It was highly unusual that the Hybrid had pale skin, rather than bloody red. Zenyatta could hardly blame Satya for not realizing what it was, especially considering what a panic she’d been in this morning. He wondered why it had taken the Hybrid so long to attack them, if it had been tracking them since the beginning or just picked up their scent accidentally.

_ The Hybrid, the Hybrid, _ he thought.  _ They were someone, once. They may have had a family. _

Shaking his head, he corrected himself.  _ I needed to defend my own life. I didn’t even strike the killing blow. _

Cold, so cold, down to his bones. When had he started getting cold?

Reaper was saying something, but Zenyatta couldn’t make it out. Which was doubly odd. Reaper’s voice still echoed, still seemed to surround him, but what were the  words? Was he singing? Was Zenyatta dying?

Oranges and reds pressed against the backs of his eyelids. Either he was headed towards a fire, or a sunset was approaching. It was the wrong season for colorful trees, and anyway he wasn’t home anymore, the trees didn’t even change colors here - did they? Why couldn’t he remember? He tried to pry his eyelids open to see where they were going, but they felt gunked up, glued shut.

Warmth, finally. Perhaps Reaper  _ had  _ dropped him straight into a fire. At least it would be swifter than succumbing to contact poison.

Wetness dripped down his cheek. Was it tears? Blood? There was pressure over his eyes, and he half expected it to suddenly increase, pop the delicate organs straight out of their sockets. Ahuizotl ate eyes, didn’t they?

“Welcome back.” The words were in Nepali, but it was neither of his parents who spoke.

Zenyatta opened his eyes for what felt like the first time in an eternity. At first, all he saw was blackness, and for a panicked second he thought he’d gone blind. But then a warm, damp cloth was removed from his face, and he could look around.

There were candles, endless candles, and deep red curtains which leant the room a cozy feeling. It was certainly not a home, but the bed Zenyatta lay on was lavishly appointed. Stone walls and flooring should have made it seem harsh, but it was strangely welcoming regardless.

Above him, Zenyatta finally found the person who had spoken. The stranger had skin a shade darker than Zenyatta’s brown, and a shaved head. On his scalp, a peculiar pattern was tattooed, one that finally broke through the haze of Zenyatta’s confusion. Eyes widening, Zenyatta whispered,  “Is this Shambali?”

Completely unsurprised, the man nodded. He had a kind face, the beginnings of crow’s feet showing at the corners of his dark eyes when he smiled.  “That it is. Your friend tells me you have been searching for us for a long time.”

“Friend?” Zenyatta’s first thought was of Genji, but of course it couldn’t be him. His second was of Satya, and he had a moment to hope that she’d already arrived.

“The owl Hybrid,” the man clarified.  “He has departed to guide your companions, I’m afraid, but he will be back soon. Now, then. My name is Tekharta Mondatta, and it is my pleasure to welcome you to our home.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I Would Cross Oceans](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11073267) by [twitchtipthegnawer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitchtipthegnawer/pseuds/twitchtipthegnawer)




End file.
